Assurance
by SJWrites2014
Summary: Calix breaks with tradition and attends university, delaying his Selection with the blessing of his parents. Now he returns to train side-by-side with his parents, as the country prepares for its first provincial elections and its first Selection in 27 years. What obstacles could keep him from fulfilling his destiny? **SEQUEL to AFTER**
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks for reading! By request, here's the sequel to After. Let me know what you think! Chapter Two is almost ready to load. :) Happy reading! -SJ :)**

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_Dearest Calix Shalom,_

_You'll have to excuse me, but I can't help but become nostalgic today. It's hard for me to believe that twenty-two years ago, your father and I were just bringing you into the world. I was no older than you are now. And here you are about to graduate to a new life as an adult! Forgive me for the cliché, but it all happened so quickly. In what seemed like blinks of our eyes, you were walking, talking, conspiring against your poor sister with your brothers following every move, requesting to attend University, now poised to graduate with honors. _

_The Crown is a heavy weight, and every step you have taken has prepared you to carry it. The dedication to your people is honorable, my son. The choices you have made so far have not been easy. But the choices you made have been right ones, made out of a deep love for Illea and respect for yourself and our family. _

_I am so proud of the man that you have become. I am so proud of the man that you will be._

_All my love,_

_Mama_

I run my fingers over Mom's looping script, close the birthday card, then place it gently on the bedside table. I ease into bed, pulling the slumbering dark-haired woman back into the crook of my arm. It's as if she is made to fit there. Closing my eyes, I try to push away the thoughts that flood my head. The main one on repeat: _My love has never felt like it has been mine to give away. What will my parents say when I tell them there will be no Selection?_

If Mom could see me right now, she might not be so proud.

Sighing, I float in the place between waking and dreaming. The closer graduation gets, the more troubled my sleep has been. This has been the worst night yet. I pass most of my evenings like this: still but wakeful. Doing my best not to disturb her rest. Replaying the past four years in my head, especially the last four months. Because that's when I met her. Four months seems like a lifetime ago. Graduation day tomorrow should be an exciting day, but I can't help but think about my parents when I introduce them to Fae. And I dread it.

A smile plays on my lips as I roll back time in my head. Auntie Nic hosted an early St. Valentine's ball at the very end of January. I attended as representative for Illea at her request while I finished my Winter Term stay and prepared to return to Illea for my final semester at Columbia University. But since the completion of my rather wild freshman year, I have never been one for crowds. I wandered up and down the corridors of the Italian castle, content to view the familiar art pieces that have been hanging in the same spots since I was a small boy. Eventually, I made my way to the library. Curled into an oversized chair, supporting her head in her hand and pouring over an old volume of poetry, was Fae. My entry into the room startled her, but she didn't look up. Instead, she read aloud, "so much depends/upon/a red wheel/barrow…"

And I surprised her by interrupting and completing the recitation, "glazed with rain/water/beside the white/chickens. William Carlos Williams." I smiled, and was rewarded as she raised her head and appraised me with her eyes, so dark blue they almost seem violet. "Calix Schreave, and you are?"

"Surprised a Prince of Illea can quote twentieth century American poetry," she responds archly, her accent a curious blend of several languages. I can't tell which one is most prominent. Standing and smoothing her dark blue evening dress, she inclines her head to me, "Your Majesty."

I bow to her, "I repeat my question. And you are?"

"No one of consequence. A friend of Princess Nicoletta, roped in to being here this evening," she replied.

"That seems to be Auntie Nic's way. She is very persuasive. Has been as long as I've known her," I smile again, taking in her long chestnut brown hair, curled for the event, with small pieces pinned back. Her skin is almost olive in tone, but not quite, and I had to look down to see her delicate features as she is so petite, the top of her head was barely level with my shoulder. She was beautiful without being aware of her beauty. Unlike most women over the last few years, she looked wholly unimpressed with me. Maybe even slightly irritated that I had interrupted her quiet evening? Her tone seems to suggest annoyance, and I am intrigued. "I would offer you my arm to return to the ballroom? Maybe by then you would find me fit to learn your name?"

She laughed then, and did walk back with me, mentioning Auntie Nic would be furious if she didn't enjoy more of the party. Although she refused to take my arm, I did learn her name: Fae Eveline Baron. I sang it to myself the rest of the evening, even as she refused my requests to dance.

As I excused myself for the night, Auntie Nic pulled me aside and warned me against pursuing her further, "She's too special to be another notch, Cal. With your Selection coming this summer, do you have the heart to be with someone who could be more?" It's not often that Auntie Nic is serious, especially during a party. I promised to not seek Fae out.

It turns out that Auntie Nic's discouragement was more than enough reinforcement for both of us. Fae and I returned to Columbia on the same plane the next week. I was astonished to discover she was also a senior, and even lived in my apartment building. Her literature major and penchant for the library, plus my affinity for privacy, probably just a few of the reasons I hadn't seen her before.

Fae shifts in my arms, and I feel her lips brush my bare collarbone. "You don't have to pretend, Cal. I know you're awake."

In response, I find her lips with my own, whispering, "Morning," when we take a breath. I contemplate staying here all day, and bury my nose in her hair.

"Good morning, Cousin," Ethan shouts, throwing open my door and flipping on the overhead light.

I open one eye and frown at him and his signature grin. "Get the hell out."

Ethan. Five years older and with enough bravado for all of us put together. He's the only son of my dad's cousin August and his wife Georgia, and is the reason I was allowed to come to Columbia in the first place. He's my bodyguard, my closest friend, and as he burst into the room this morning, the most annoying person I've ever met.

"Not gonna happen, Cal. Just got word our moms are on their way here to surprise us. Thought you might want a warning. You can thank my dad for the heads up." My groan elicits an even wider grin, as he turns his attention to my companion. "Morning, Fae. Sleep well?"

She answers him with a rude gesture. That's my girl.

"Sure, I'll start the coffee," I hear him chuckling at himself in the hallway as he shuts the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks again for reading. Comments on reviews at the end! SJ :)**

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"I'm just not into this whole ceremony. Come in. Stand up with the English department. Sit down. Listen to someone speak. It's so immense, no one will know whether I am there or not. So, I didn't register. It's no big deal."

I don't know how to answer that statement. I was looking forward to the sea of Columbia blue, and feeling a part of something bigger than myself. I think I could actually disappear as Calix, Crown Prince of Illea, and just be Cal. Even with my family there. Even in the middle of all those people. "Oh." My graduation cap and gown are already hanging in my closet, ready to go. "Okay. We'll meet up afterwards? So you can meet my family and I can meet your mom and dad?"

She just shook her head, "My parents aren't coming, Cal. My mom's in no shape to, and my dad can't leave her. I'm flying back to Italy during the ceremony." She takes my hand across the table, and I notice Ethan rapidly retreating down the hallway. Even he isn't going to make any jokes about this situation right now. Her expression and tone are apologetic, and I squeeze her small hand once before returning both to my mug of coffee.

"I don't understand." I can't keep the disappointment out of my voice and I feel like a petulant child, but refrain from whining about the fairness of it all. I had never actually asked her to meet my parents this weekend; I had just assumed she would want to do so. But it is an overwhelming thing to do when your family isn't royal. The contingent of guards alone… I try and smile. "But, I'll respect your choice."

My heart squeezes in my chest. Is this the last time we'll share coffee over a breakfast table? If this is the end, I didn't see it coming. My eyes try to memorize this moment that I've been taking for granted. She's become a fixture in our little apartment, and Ethan makes it clear that of the string of women who paraded in and out of this kitchen over the past four years that Fae is by far his favorite. If she wasn't, he wouldn't have bothered to wake us this morning. I take a moment to really look at her. She'd thrown one of my sweatshirts, the sleeves rolled up but still covering her hands, on over her stark white t-shirt and jeans. The fabric looks like it's swallowing her whole. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face and twisted in a knot, two pencils holding it in place. And she's barefoot. Her bright red toenail polish one of the few girly touches she embraces.

"I'm not saying I never want to meet them, Cal. I just don't think this weekend is the right time."

I nod, and take another drink, and finally flash her a real smile, "What, spending time with Ethan doesn't make you excited to meet my immediate family?" Ethan is our cover whenever we go out in public, which is rare. Most have no idea he is anything more than my roommate and friend. Thankfully, over the last year or so the paparazzi mostly leave me alone. It's not too interesting to record a royal behaving himself, after all.

I was much more exciting to document when I first came to the city and was out of the direct control of my parents for the first time. Until then, they had an agreement with the fledgling media industry. Apparently, that understanding did not stretch to the other seaboard, especially since I was technically an adult. And I gave them plenty of fodder. So much so, Dad and Mom almost pulled me home. It took Aunt May, Uncle Evan, Uncle Gerad, Ethan, both his parents, and me one entire weekend to convince them that I'd behave myself and allow me to return after fall break. Really, Ethan and I just became much better at avoiding making the news. Getting this apartment and moving out of the dorms had played a big role in that success. Once I convinced them I primarily concentrated on my school work, they even let the occasional leggy, blonde indiscretion slide.

Fae just laughs, takes her mug to the sink, and rinses it out. She looks out the window, across the skyscraper-laden landscape, but seems to see beyond. It's amazing so many buildings survived the wars, but China purposefully prevented the destruction of the city that used to be the financial center of the world. Easier to repurpose buildings that still existed, rather than totally rebuild. The former capitol of the United States was a different story. It had been decimated.

She looks back at me, still lost in thought, "Maybe you can come to Italy next month?" She turns, her indigo eyes sad.

I just shake my head, sighing, "I have a feeling I'll be neck-deep in whatever Dad needs me to do." He tries to protect me from too much during the semester, but summer is when I re-acclimate. "I'll be transitioning to my full responsibility. They've already delayed four years. But you can come see me." I reach out my arms and push my chair back from the table. She relents, and folds herself onto my lap, leaning her head against my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her delicate frame and bend my head to brush my lips across her forehead. "I love you."

"I know. I love you, too," a smile takes over her face, and she presses kisses into the base of my throat. "I'll miss you," she breathes in a voice that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I close my eyes, and I know I'm smiling. My fingers and toes and lips are buzzing with electricity. We are on dangerous ground, with Mom and Aunt Georgia on their way. She chuckles, low and in the back of her throat, and makes her way to my lips. Intensely, I return her kiss, pouring everything I feel for her into it. Maybe she'll change her mind. Maybe she'll stay if she can feel just how much I need her. Her hands sneak up to my face, and her breath is uneven when we finally part.

"I'll miss you, too" I try to calm my own breathing. She just nods, staring so deep into my eyes that I shiver. I can't think when she looks at me like that. I turn my head, breaking the gaze first. "Stop," my voice is still hoarse as I hold her to me again. "You know that's not fair."

She relaxes into me, and we just sit for a while. I marvel at how easy it is to hold her; how quickly I forget this isn't how it has always been.

Ethan clears his throat and I open my eyes and look at him. He's fresh from a shower, and he's thrown on jeans and a white button down. He taps his wrist, as if he had a watch. I sigh, and he says, "Our moms will be here in less than two hours."

Reluctantly, Fae and I stand and embrace. Then, I kiss her softly, one last time. As she heads out the door, shoes in hand, she looks over her shoulder. "I love you, Calix. Be happy." The door shuts with finality, before I have a chance to respond.

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**Ooh-so excited that you like the first chapter. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing (and favoriting and following!) You all are awesome! :)**

**Theoneforever: Thanks! I'm so glad you like it. **

**agb1700: Thanks! Lurve your reviews! ;)**

**going for the win: Thanks-so much fun to write that I am glad other people are enjoying it!**

**luv2read4reading: I *heart* Ethan, too. He's quite the personality... just wait. :)**

**The Selection Fangirl: Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait? :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Awe, thanks so much. Your writing it so good. I love your work, too. Thanks for always reading and reviewing!**

**AcademicGirl: How sweet! Glad you enjoyed it. Hope the wait wasn't too long, but trying to get ahead of the story a little. :)**

**Strike OOO: I really like Fae, too. (I guess that's kind of obvious.) And Ethan is fun to write. Hope you continue to enjoy! :)**

**meeraratani: Thanks so much! You're welcome. I hope it lives up to expectations. :)**

**prnamber3909: Poor guy. Seems like he does. ;)**

**Molly: Love your exuberance! Glad to see you're back and you liked it! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks for reading. Glad to see that people are enjoying the story so far! -**__SJ :)_

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I mutter to myself as I arrange my study. I've barely been home a week and it's already straight to work. Mom and Dad had given me the space as a graduation gift, and I understand it is supposed to demonstrate their faith in me. Dad used to have to work in the corner of his father's office, and the younger kids each have desks in their rooms. I dig into the box that I had emptied my school desk into, and brush up against a photo. It's Fae and me, and neither one of us realizes Ethan has an instant camera. It's a close up. Our foreheads are pressed together, and we're smiling into each other's face. Her hair is up, secured by the usual pencils, and her arms are flung over my shoulders. I remember that day. It was April, and spring was threatening to break through the chill of Columbia. Growing up in Angeles, the whole province of Columbia always seems chilly to me. It was also the day that I blurted out "I love you" over grilled cheese sandwiches and she actually responded the same way.

I run a hand through my blonde hair, cut much shorter now that I am home. Fae. After spending every spare moment with her, I'm restless without her presence. My sleep is so disturbed I wonder why I even go through the motions of going to bed. I've tried to call every night around 1:00 AM, which should be mid-morning since she is visiting Auntie Nic. But, I still haven't managed to get her on the phone. Two sharp raps on the door encourage me to slip the picture into my back pocket as I turn to the noise.

My father is framed in the doorway, and he's holding something in his hands as he smiles at me and walks into the room. Tyrmian follows close on his heels. Tyrmian was only two when I left for school, and now at six he threatens to look exactly like the rest of us. Barrett is the only one of the boys who inherited Mom's looks. The rest of us are mirrors of Dad. As the youngest of the six, it looks like he may get away with a little more than the rest of us did, too.

"We've got something for you!" sings Tyr, grinning up at me, relieving Dad of the package and pushing it into my hands. "Hurry and open it!" He practically dances around me, trying to start the wrapping paper.

I can't help but laugh at him, "Okay, okay. I'll be quick," I smile. When I was younger, I would sometimes wonder what it would be like to be an only child. I have faded memories of what it was like before Abrielle. But now I am so happy there are five other people to take Mom and Dad's attention. I let Tyr help me pull the paper off the gift, revealing a large box. Inside is my diploma, accented and ready to hang in a gorgeous handmade frame. I notice Mom peeking her head around the door.

"Am I too late?" She moves to stand beside Dad, and he puts a hand out to take her arm.

"It's beautiful," I respond, brushing my hand over the smooth surface truly awed. Sometimes it seems to me my time away just happened in an alternate reality. Besides everyone's ages, everything seems to be the same at home. This gift is concrete proof that I did something on my own. Calix Shalom Schreave. Bachelors of Arts in History and Political Science.

Dad claps me on the shoulder, and the gesture reminds me that no matter how much taller I am, I will always respect him as the bigger man. I can't believe that by the time he was my age he had lost both his parents, survived a major attack on the palace, became king, and negotiated three peace treaties that still stand today. His rule is a subject of study in an entire chapter of one of my poli sci textbooks.

Mom moves to wrap her arms around me, shifting the project folder in her hand. It's almost comical, with her almost a full seven inches shorter than I am. "We're proud of you, sweetheart. All that work, the least we could do was highlight it. You've started a new tradition, you know." She's beaming as she refers to Brie's impending departure to college.

"We thought you could hang it behind your desk," Dad continues, and walks it to a spot on the wall behind my desk. He pulls a small hammer and nail from his pocket. In a couple of seconds, my diploma is on the wall. We all stand back and look at it for a second. It's perfectly square and perfectly centered. Of course.

Aunt May exclaims from the doorway, "Tyrmian Michael. There you are! I've been looking all over for you. Your horse backing riding lesson is in fifteen minutes."

"Sorry, Aunt May," Dad speaks up. "I let him tag along to give Cal a graduation gift. This one was my fault."

Tyr grins at all of us as he follows Aunt May out the door. "Auntie May, do I have to? I want to stay with Cal and help him unpack."

"You most certainly do have to," Mom calls after him. "And so does Kort. So get a move on." What might sound harsh on any other day is softened by the obvious lightness in her voice. Mom tends to smile at us, and occasional shouting is a matter-of-course. But we all know we're not really in trouble unless she goes eerily quiet. When she goes silent, and her eyes start to blaze, that's the best time to hide behind Aunt Marlee.

It's been almost a full year since that anger was directed at me. And, I prefer it that way. I'd gotten my share. Mostly when anything she didn't already know about me is in the newspaper. With Fae, I think those discoveries will probably be a thing of the past.

Knowing Tyrmian is out of earshot, I have to laugh as his voice carries up the hall. He is still trying to convince Aunt May that knowing horsemanship is frivolous. "Was I ever that persistent?"

My parents just look at each other and laugh. "Oh, Cal," Mom responds. "Of course you were. At least as bad. Maybe even worse."

Dad throws an arm around Mom's shoulders, "And you come by it honestly. Doesn't he, love?" I am always amazed that with all the pressures of their work and how the six of us can have them running in different directions, they still manage to show their true affection for each other. Mom only smiles up at him in reply, and he places a gentle kiss on her forehead. No, it is more than affection. As much as I hate to admit it, my parents love each other deeply. Twenty-seven years have only brought them closer together.

I begin to feel a little awkward with their display, so I move back toward my packing box. Mom turns her attention back to me. She leans on my desk and opens her project folder, and I notice she has newspaper clippings in the file. I look over at the articles, and pictures of Ethan, Fae, and me are prominent.

"I assume these are hers." She hands me a pair of earrings that are one of Fae's favorite pairs. Simple gold hoops. Mom must have found them when she was helping me pack my apartment. "So, do you want to tell me who she is, sweetheart?" Mom asks, her voice soft.

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**agb1700: I know, it was a little sad. But glad you still liked the writing!**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: I dunno. I guess we're going to have to see. I *heart* Fae's character...**

**prnamber3909: :)**

**Strike OOO: I like your rhyming! :) Thanks for the compliment. Hope you like this chapter, too!**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: I know... how could she do that? Fae's independent, that's for sure... Thanks for reading!**

**Selection Fan: Aww, thanks. Glad you're enjoying it. Calix is an interesting guy... Hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)**

**AcademicGirl: I know; I love Fae, too. We'll have to see, I guess. Uncle Evan is Aunt May's husband. He was her fiance in After, but we don't actual see him in the story. He is mentioned in passing. We'll meet him later on in this story.**

**Theoneforever: Thanks. I know the update wasn't fast. But, now I have some time... :)**

**Kayleigh987: Surprise! I'm back early! I love that Ethan and Calix are friends so Calix has someone to look up to that isn't his father or mother. I know, it's sort of an interesting dynamic that Calix went through this selfish phase. College was the first time that he was away from home and under his own volition. And, the press is kind of a new thing in Illea... :) I'm glad you like his layers-wait, does that mean Calix is an onion?! ;) Hope this chapter meets expectations!**

**Guest: Hmmm...We'll have to see. I appreciate the idea, though. :) **


	4. Chapter 4

_"__I assume these are hers." She hands me a pair of earrings that are one of Fae's favorite pairs. Simple gold hoops. Mom must have found them when she was helping me pack my apartment. "So, do you want to tell me who she is, sweetheart?" Mom asks, her voice soft._

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My jaw drops. I had thought we were being so careful and staying out of the public eye. Perhaps we weren't.

"And don't say no one," Dad adds, "As you can see, your mother has completed quite the investigation." He is trying to keep his face blank, but his eyes can't hide his amusement.

I furrow my brow. I didn't know what to tell them, so I am honest, "Not really." How could I say she is the woman I want to bring into the family-she is the woman I want to become queen—when she currently won't return my phone calls?

Mom narrows her eyes a little, and pointedly says, "Well, you are obviously close enough to have Miss Baron's earrings in your bedroom." She is now leaning against the desk with both palms pressed into the top. I am trying desperately to seem unruffled even under her serious gaze. Dad's left eyebrow is rapidly approaching his hairline, but he doesn't look particularly angry. Wait. How does she know Fae's name?

The somber tone is broken when Ethan bursts through the doorway, "Cal, we have to talk." He is saying as he stops short and notices both the king and the queen are with me. "Cousins," he smiles as he composes himself and nods his head to both in turn.

"Ethan, I'm sure you've come to warn Prince Calix that I am on my way here," Mom's statement brought a full smile to Dad's face and he didn't even try to hide it. He is obviously enjoying our discomfort. "But, you're a little late." How is it possible that her face is getting more serious? Where's Aunt Marlee when I need her? "Either that or you have more to report on Miss Baron?"

"More?" I ask. And, then I realize that Ethan is probably still recovering from whatever grilling Mom had given him the first time. His face looks apologetic, but he really has no reason to be sorry. It's his job as my personal guard. Sometimes I forget, because he is also my closest friend. Of course Ethan ran a background check on Fae. But I already know he didn't find anything of interest, because he would have told me before now. And, Mom wouldn't need to corner me for any additional information.

I return her gaze. I don't want to talk about this now. So, I'm not going to. I cross my arms across my chest. "Why did you bother to ask me? You already know as much as Ethan."

"I hoped you would tell me about her yourself," Mom's voice is soft but the flintiness is wearing off. "If she is so special that she spends the night, I thought she'd be important enough to tell us about. I thought you might…" She trails off, looking at me with a question she doesn't want to ask. It's something she wants me to confess.

Sucking in a breath, I almost spill everything out. But something stops me. I'm not ten anymore. And I really can't talk about this until I know where Fae stands. If she left me last week—and I just didn't understand—then there is nothing to tell. I don't need to share my pain with everyone. "When there's something to tell, I will."

My tone comes across harsher than I intend, and Mom looks hurt. Dad's amusement changes to concern as he glances at both of us. Ethan pretends not to notice that we are at odds.

"I thought this might have been different than the others," she sighs, picking up a picture, and then dropping it back and closing the folder. "At least she didn't try to go to the media with an exclusive report."

Her attempt to comfort me misses, because at least if Fae had gone to a reporter, I would know what happened to her. I would know where we stood. This constant state of limbo is breaking me down.

Dad finally speaks, "Love, it looks like Cal has a lot of work to do. Why don't we give him some space?" Mom attempts to protest, and he just guides her along. When he reaches the door he says, "I'll see you for the meeting this afternoon." He nods to Ethan and coaxes Mom down the corridor.

Ethan closes the door and turns to me. "Haven't heard from her yet?"

I throw myself into my desk chair accidentally making it spin and almost sending it over backwards. Appropriate since that's how I feel, like I'm at a crazy tilt, barely keeping my balance. "No. You're sure she's still in Italy."

"Yes," Ethan takes his seat on the couch with a little more grace than I did. "I'm sorry, Cal. Your mom insisted I report. And, she _is_ the queen." His signature grin is subdued, and he is watching my reaction carefully.

I wave off his apology. "I know. Don't worry about it."

"So, are you going to go through with it?"

"With what? Oh. The Selection. What choice do I have now?" I lean forward with my elbows on my desk and allow my hands to carry the weight of my head. "Was I just seeing what I wanted to see, Ethan? Tell me I'm not making up what I thought we had."

He sighs back at me. "Look, Cal. I like Fae. I even like you and Fae together. She's the only woman you've met that will make more fun of you than I will, and that alone makes her a wonderful candidate." I give him a warning look; it's too early to tease about this wound. "She loves you Cal. We've been lucky enough to grow up surrounded by people who are in love, and you can't miss that look."

"But she left me, Ethan. She walked out and left me." I hated the whine in my voice, but I couldn't seem to control it anymore.

"And have you asked her why?"

"I already told you, she won't answer the phone."

"And I suppose that's the only way to ask a girl a question." He raises an eyebrow at me. Suddenly, I can see the family resemblance.

"Ethan, she's all the way in Italy."

"And I suppose you're _way_ too busy reviewing budgets and legislation and Selection applications to be bothered to ask her the question in person," he drawls, drily. "Or maybe, you might know someone who's like family but not family, who just happens to live in Italy?"

I stand and pound my fist on the desk, "I didn't ask to be the crown prince, Ethan. Maybe you'd rather do this?"

He laughs then, "Like hell. My family gave up that right long ago. And more power to you, that's for sure." He unfolds himself from the couch and makes his way to the door. "You know what you need to do, Cousin. Whichever choice you make."

As he closes the door, my packing box hits the wall beside it, spilling all its contents as it hits the floor. I can hear him laughing all the way down the hall. Typical Ethan move.

My hand is already dialing Auntie Nic's number. I don't know why I didn't think of it before.

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**fantasybookgirl: There are two new siblings: Kort (12) and Tyrmian (6). They both look like Calix and Griffin. Calix is 22. Abrielle is 18. Barrett and Griffin are 15. So, Maxon got his wish-he has a big family! :) Hope that helps and hope you like this chapter!**

**dolly123: You're welcome! I'm glad you enjoy it! :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Mom's have got to do that sometimes. I'm so glad you liked it. Flashbacks are definitely coming up.**

**PrincessIndia: Calix may have a Selection. Wait and see. :)**

**jthornestudent: So glad you're back and you like the new installment! :)**

**AcademicGirl: You can't pull much over on most moms, and Calix should know that by now, don't ya think? :) No worries. Hope you like this chapter, too. Thanks for reading! :)**

**Totalbooknerd13: Welcome back! Calix has definitely grown up. Thanks for reading! :)**

**Selection Fan: Thank you so much for reading. I plan on continuing to update! Hopefully more often... but we'll see. School is starting soon... So glad you're enjoying it!**

**prnamber3909: Definitely. I wonder what would work best? Someone pull the rebel alarm! :)**

**Thanks for reading everyone! Let me know what you think. -SJ **


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for reading whether you review and follow or not! :) Hope you enjoy the latest installment!

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I slam the phone back onto the desk. So much for Auntie Nic's help. An hour of waiting on hold, talking in circles, and being told that Fae is "Around here somewhere. Maybe. Or she may be backpacking without a phone. And maybe with a friend, who may or may not be male." I know we didn't listen to her warning, but Nic is not usually vindictive. I no longer believe Fae is getting my phone messages. A quick glance at my watch confirms it is time to head to Dad's study.

Within the first fifteen minutes of the first hour I am zoning in and out. Gavril sits next to a young man I've never met. He doesn't seem to be that much older than I am. His name is Stephen and I am not sure what he is doing here, besides joggling his knee up and down with unrestrained exuberance. I am too busy replaying my conversation with Ethan, and then my conversation with Auntie Nic, in my head. I hope I at least look like I am paying attention.

"It seems a good portion of the country is wondering when the transition of power will take place-actually 48% would like to know the plan." I had heard of pollsters and seen them in action overseas. Since when did we have pollsters in Illea?

Wait. What? "Well, I'm not even married yet, so they will have to wait." I know I look utterly confused and underprepared. I glance at Dad, and he seems ultra-focused on Stephen, with his "state" smile plastered across his face. Mom pats my hand under the table. Does Stephen annoy her, too?

"Speaking of that, since you mentioned it, your highness. We polled on the topic of your Selection."

Oh, great.

"Eighty percent of the country is very much looking forward to it, and think a Selection is absolutely necessary to choosing the next queen."

"What about the other twenty percent?"

"Ten percent think it is necessary, and five percent are against the Selection."

My own country. Only five percent would agree with me. "What about the other five percent? That doesn't add up."

"The other five percent don't know who you are."

"Wonderful." I wonder briefly if that is the same percentage that knows we are more worried about the provincial elections going smoothly than implementing another Selection.

"Well, the people have spoken," Mom sighs quietly beside me. If I needed any further proof that I was extraneous, this meeting cemented it.

Dad finally speaks, "Cal, what do you think about what we just heard?"

"Well," I look from Dad to Mom to Gavril and Stephen. "It seems like the Selection is in the front of people's minds." My father nods to encourage my train of thought. "But, did we poll about the elections at all?"

"You probably haven't had a chance to read our summary of last week's agenda," Gavril says, passing me a sheet of results. "But the people are nervous about the mayoral elections. The country is evenly split on whether mayors should be chosen by ballot."

Well, Gavril is right. I have been so consumed with Fae, that I am missing important information.

Dad adds, "The Selection is a lot easier for people to wrap their minds around. Elections haven't happened here for generations. People aren't entirely comfortable with the appointed Parliament, yet, and the economy certainly isn't helping."

"That's not uncommon, in Roman times," I take a breath and launch into a historic description of elections, not noticing that everyone around the table immediately begins to glaze over. Barrett and Griffin saunter into the room, together as always, and interrupt me. They look fresh from the showers, so they must have just been training with the guard. They take seats at the table, as if they come to meetings all the time. And, I know they do. It's a part of our responsibilities as we turn thirteen. I'm not sure why Brie isn't here, as well. Maybe she's preparing for her impending trip to college orientation. Since she's going to art school at the University of Bologna in Italy, she will take the opportunity to see Auntie Nic, as well.

The interruption prompts a change in the conversation. "What do you think about the _Selection_, Cal?" Mom asks, studying my face.

"It's a tradition," I hedge. Good god, what is wrong with me? It suddenly crosses my mind that I don't really like this aspect of my new work. I could give them the complete history of the Selection from the beginning of Illea, as well as the implications for the country and world relationships. But actual implementation? All I can think about is that I don't want to date a girl younger than Abrielle. The last four years have changed me, and I wonder if I still fit into the role I am going to inherit. Maybe I could convince them that graduate school would make me a better monarch? I could delay the Selection another three to seven years.

Griffin pipes up, "Actually, Baer and I were talking about this last night. The Selection is a great distraction from the parts of the economy that aren't going so well. Plus, people are nervous about the elections." They obviously are paying closer attention than me at these meetings. "The Selection is familiar. So, the future king has to have a Selection if he is to start out with the people's approval."

"It will comfort the people. But there's something that is a major difference," Barrett adds. "Last time, the castes were securely in place. And the girls who entered were practically bred for it if they were a Two. How are we going to narrow the field without playing obvious favorites?" I look at my brothers in admiration. They are really growing into their positions. It will be comforting to have them advise me.

"Go on," Dad encourages Baer.

Baer's face looks focused, "So we need to establish parameters that make sense for today. Every province will be represented, of course. But, something is a little strange about thinking about Cal with a woman younger than Brie. So," he looks at me for approval, "Maybe a little change that everyone could agree on is the age range of the women. Preparing to be queen is serious. To show that seriousness, we can raise the minimum age from sixteen to twenty?"

"Definitely," I agree before anyone can say anything against the plan. If I can't have Fae, I don't want a girl who hasn't finished secondary school.

"And everyone will be so focused on that change, maybe updating the application won't really be noticed?"

Pride is written all over Dad's face. And Gavril and Stephen look appraisingly at the twins. Mom turns back to me. "But we didn't ask the most important question," she practically whispers. Everyone leans forward anticipating her statement. "Cal, do you want a Selection?"

I blink. Not really. Before I met Fae, I had looked forward to this moment. Thirty-five beautiful women in the palace, all focused on me? And, how else would I fulfill my duty as crown prince? Regardless of whether I want it now or not, I don't see a way around it. By virtue of being first born, I couldn't break this tradition and be king. The country would never allow it, even if my parents would. Maybe I could find my true partner, like Dad and Mom did.

Before I can answer, Aunt Marlee enters the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we have an issue with the calendars. And since everyone is here…"

Mom and Dad both nod to Aunt Marlee, and she explains that the delegation from New Asia will be delayed by one day, but will stay the same amount of time. The delay means that Dad and Mom will not be able to take Abrielle to new student orientation.

With equal measure of dread and excitement, I think about going back to Italy. I volunteer to accompany her. As the meeting draws to a close, I haven't heard a word since "Italy." Mom notices and looks at me with obvious concern. She whispers to Dad, "Are you sure he should take Brie? Elise would understand." I only half-hear Dad console her as I rush out of the room.

* * *

**Thanks again for the reviews. They are so fun to read! It really makes writing worthwhile when you know people are enjoying it!- SJ**

**Totalbooknerd13: Good to have you reading again. Enjoy! :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Working some flashbacks in to future chapters... But, what do you think of this one? Thanks for reading-and glad you enjoyed it! :)**

**AcademicGirl: Awww, so sweet. Thanks! Hope this chapter meets expectations! :)**

**jthornestudent: I can only imagine what the Selection will bring. What do you think of this chapter? :)**

**BlueGirl 1234: Thanks so much! Happy reading! :)**

**fantasybookgirl: Auntie Nic is so much fun...we will see more of her in future chapters! :)**

**Prnamber3909: You have to feel a little sorry for him, though. Don't you? :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks again for reading! Responses to reviews and an idea at the end of the chapter! :) -SJ**

* * *

After a thorough grilling by both Dad and Mom, I enter the plane hatch. I nod to the guards stationed around the perimeter, and throw myself into the seat next to Brie. I take the opportunity to really look at my sister. I'm used to seeing her wandering through the family floor of the palace, barefoot with her strawberry blonde hair wild in its traditional ponytail. She's usually carrying a sketchpad and her clothes are spattered with paint or ink. She focuses her brown eyes on my own, and I notice makeup around her eyes. Her hair is falling in soft, controlled ringlets, and her sundress and cardigan manage to make her look graceful and artistic and sophisticated all at once. Abrielle isn't a baby any more.

"Excited to see her, Cal?" she arches an eyebrow and shoots me a half-smile.

"What do you mean?" I pretend I don't understand.

"One of the benefits of everyone thinking you're a flighty artist is that they have conversations in front of you that they might not normally have. Who's the girl?"

"Brie, anyone who thinks you're flighty is sorely mistaken."

"Which is why I spent the better part of the last four years convincing people of exactly that—with so many brothers, it's a defense mechanism."

"Well, you can't fool me. And I'm sure Mom and Dad aren't fooled either."

She concedes, "It's nearly impossible to pull anything over on Mom and Dad, especially if they are together. However, apart and distracted…" She laughs. "Remember when you turned me green?"

"How could I forget? I had horrible timing. It was when we were getting all those rebel attacks. I thought Mom was going to skin me alive."

"All I remember wondering is why she was so mad. It was quite a lovely shade." Her laugh is light as she pokes me in the side.

"Well, I remember having to be escorted to class and anywhere else by Miss Paige. At nine, that was quite a blow to my ego. But it did get me out of my Latin test. At least for a little while."

Our laughter turns to companionable silence. A little while later, she says, "I'm nervous, Cal."

"I know, but if it helps you, I'm jealous."

"Jealous?" The question in her voice was undeniable, and she pushes me on. "Explain."

"My freshman year was a grand experiment, and I know Mom and Dad wanted to kill me and call it off most of the year. But, it was truly amazing, Brie."

"Oh, you don't even know. Mom promised me there was no way in hell I was going to school so far from home. And she used the word hell. In front of all of us. Thanks for cleaning up your act so I can go to one of the best art schools in the world." She's laughing again.

"You're welcome." I think back to all the nights I didn't spend studying. All the times I could have said 'no' but said 'why not?' instead. The mornings the only reason I knew what I'd done because Ethan or some newspaper article in the gossip section told me. The mornings Mom called me at 8:00 AM just to express her displeasure and expectations for the future. And I even remember the morning when I decided I had enough.

A few minutes later, Brie asks me, "Do you regret it?" When I don't answer, she continues, "How you behaved? How everything you did or didn't do made it to the newspaper? How disappointed Dad and Mom were?"

I sigh and run my hand through my hair, "If there's one thing I could take back, it is how much I embarrassed Mom and Dad. And how much I worried them. But, Brie, this is the time in your life to be selfish and try new things and figure out who you want to be. You're going to make mistakes. Trust the wrong people. Just try not to take shots off of an anonymous blonde's stomach with an undercover reporter recording your every move." She starts to nervously twirl a piece of hair around her finger. "Being outside of Illea, the press probably won't even care about you so much." I lean towards her, and point behind us to where Ethan and Kate, her Ethan-equivalent, are sitting. "Depend on Kate. That's what she's there for, anyway."

"I guess," she says, rubbing her jaw, and then grinning. "She does have a mean right hook. And she can hold her tequila." She gives me a sly glance, "Or so I hear." Even the thought of tequila makes me nauseous.

"And don't forget how close you're going to be to Auntie Nic."

"Who knows? Four years from now I may be making you meet your brother-in-law-to-be." She winks, and then chuckles at my horrified face.

I turn solemn, even stern. "Brie, you asked me about regrets. That's my one regret. You're young. Don't give your heart away right now. Do exactly what I did, if you have to. Except that. Have fun. Find out who you are. But don't let anything get serious."

"Oh, Cal," she sighs in return. "If you don't bring her back with you, are you going to be horribly bitter for the rest of your life?"

I just shake my head at her, "I don't want to talk about it, Brie."

"You've given me some wonderful advice, big brother. So let me give you some. Don't have the Selection." I give her a look. She know that's not an option. Not for me, anyway. We've had this argument enough over the last few years. She rolls her eyes, "Fine. Don't have the Selection until you're sure she's gone and your heart is healed. Because otherwise you will be an insufferable jerk for the rest of our natural lives. And frankly, I deserve more. And so do you."

I am still trying to come up with a response when she pats my hand and picks up a book from the seat beside her. She's effectively ended our conversation, and I'm done talking anyway. I lean back in my seat, and close my eyes, trying not to think about a dark-haired girl with indigo eyes.

...

"She's here," Ethan assures me. "I'm sure she's back in the palace. She's just an expert at avoiding you, Cousin."

Our stay in Italy so far has been uneventful. I took Brie to school and visit with Auntie Nic, and both of us pretend nothing is wrong. But, at night, I stalk the corridors and the library, hoping to catch a glimpse of Fae. I haven't done more than doze since we arrived.

"Well, she obviously doesn't want to see me," I growl, restlessly pacing my room. "Ethan, I just need a reason. I need to hear it from her."

"And you deserve at least that, Cal." The look on his face is so empathetic it angers me. I don't need his pity. I turn over the desk chair I am leaning on and let it fly and hit the opposite wall.

Ethan leaps to the side, narrowly avoiding a direct hit. "Hey, I'm on your side!"

"Prove it. No matter what you have to do. Find her." My voice is low and dangerous. I know I'm not being fair and I don't care that much.

He appraises me, nods, and says, "Okay, then." He promptly leaves the room, and all the rage I am feeling dissipates. I collapse face-first across the bed, and bury my mouth in my pillow so I can scream.

* * *

Hi, everyone! Thanks for reviewing. I appreciate it-but never feel like you have to review. (Like everyone who writes, I love the feedback, but don't want anyone to ever feel pressured to review.) Now, I had an idea for a game-maybe it is more game-ish?-where I could make a bracket (like for March Madness?) on different topics. Like, the first bracket could be best leading male protagonist in a popular series... I'd randomly match them up and we'd vote through the comments until we get to the final two? (And eventually the champion?) I don't know. Let me know if that sounds like fun? Otherwise, thanks for reading. :)

The Devil Wears Westwood: I know, please don't make me date a lot of beautiful women... Please, stop. :) And, America seems to know her son, doesn't she? But would we expect any less? Thanks for reading! :)

PrincessIndia: You never have to apologize, but I'm excited you reviewed this one! What did you think of this chapter? Happy reading! :)

fantasybookgirl: Maybe so... :)

BlueGirl 1234: Thanks so much! Hopefully, you like this chapter, too! :)

agb1700: Lurve that you're still reading! :)

Prnamber3909: I know. Way to torture him, huh? :)

AcademicGirl: You're so sweet! Thanks! And, I don't think so, about the SYOC. I've already got the Elite in my head... Good idea, though. As always, thanks for reading! :)

jthornestudent: I know-he does have a lot of ups and downs, doesn't he? Hope you enjoyed this chapter, too! :)

Strike OOO: Glad you're back, but you never have to say sorry! Hope you like this chapter, too. Thanks for reading! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks so much for reading. Response to comments and the beginning of the bracket game below. Happy reading! -SJ :)**

* * *

Ethan returns several hours later with Fae's schedule of the day. I'm not sure how he procured it, and I didn't ask. I'm sure this was something Auntie Nic didn't want me to have. It seems Fae has been taking most meals in her room, and is staying in a different wing. Ethan and I timed when she might be in the corridor. And, he is correct as usual. I lean against the wall and wait for her to look up from the book she is carrying.

She soon does. All color drains from her face, but her voice is strong when she asks, "What are you doing here?"

"Surprised? Running an errand for my parents. Thought I'd get some answers of my own while I'm in town," I spit. I'm trying to resist the urge to engulf her in my arms. "Oh, and thanks for returning my call."

Her book closes with a snap, and she continues down the hall, throwing "I thought you would understand better than anyone what an unreturned phone call would mean" over her shoulder. That stings. Especially since I never treated her as a throw-away. "I think you have your answer now." I follow her down the hall and into her room, slamming the door forcefully behind me. She's sitting on her bed, turned away from me. In the shadowy light from the doorway, I think she is crying. But instead she insists, "I don't want you here. You need to go."

Something about that posture makes her rejection even worse. I cross the room and demand, "Look me in the eyes, Fae. Kiss me one last time and tell me I mean nothing to you. If you can do that, I will leave and never bother you again."

She raises her face to mine and I sit beside her. When she doesn't speak, I pull her a little roughly against my chest, one hand pressing into her back and the other cupping her cheek.

"Calix, I can't," she breathes, but doesn't struggle as I cover her lips with my own. My heart races as I feel her respond to my kiss and she wraps her arms around my neck pulling me with her as she leans backward with a sigh. The air around us is electrified and filled with shared murmurs.

"I love you," I whisper urgently over and over into her lips and neck and ears. Her hands are shaking as she guides mine to the zipper on the back of her dress. There's nothing I want more than to release her from it. My fingers ache to touch her skin, remembering the feel of her against me. It takes everything I have to stop. It's not like we haven't done this before. But I need to know this won't be the last time. I need to know she won't leave me again. I can't be with her now and walk away whole. Neither one of us can.

I know she still loves me. I can feel it as her body responds to every touch, as she reciprocates and deftly unbuttons my shirt, pulling it from my back. But she has to say it. I'm not the same man as I was four years ago. A man who would fall into bed with a woman just because he can. Just because she's convenient and will have him. I want more for both of us. She arches into me, running her hands and lips along my shoulders and chest. Her breath is hitching and she shivers as she insistently places my hand on her back.

"Please," she breathes into my neck, and follows the line of my jaw back to my mouth. "Please." She pulls me to her, resisting any distance and pressing her lips to mine. I relent, returning her kiss and letting my yearning for her overcome us both.

* * *

A dim light presses through the curtains as I become aware and remember where I am. Fae. She's curled against my chest as her bare back falls rhythmically with her breathing. I brush my hand lightly across her dark hair and watch a smile cross her sleeping features. This is the most rested I've felt since before graduation.

I drink her in, making sure to keep my breathing even so I don't disturb her. As the sun rises higher, she begins to stir, and I bury my nose in her hair, whispering, "Morning, love."

Her eyes are brightened by her smile as she leans her head back to look at me. "They always have to come, don't they?" She groans a little, "Can't you do anything about that?" She steals another kiss.

"Not even in Illea," I assure her. "The sun rises when the sun wants to rise. Royal decree does no good." She laughs a little then, but the lightness is soon replaced by a shadow, her features serious. I turn on my side so we can face each other, forehead to forehead. "I'm so glad I found you." She touches my face, then kisses the tip of my nose then flips onto her other side and lets me cradle her back to my chest. I pull the duvet over both of us, enjoying the peace I feel. She says nothing, and the silence stretches and becomes uneasy. I try again, "Fae, I missed you."

"I know. Cal," she begins. I rub her shoulder and press one kiss and then another into her collarbone. She tenses a little. "Cal, stop. I can't think when you do that."

"Hmmm," I tease, and repeat my actions. She sighs involuntarily, and I feel her back melt into me as I do it again. I can't have her this close and not touch her after so long apart.

"No. Cal, seriously," her voice is strong and her whole body tenses. There's an edge to her tone that frightens me. She rolls to her other side, pulling the sheet around her and putting space between us. Her face is hard and composed, her eyes focused. She looks positively irate, and I have no idea what I did. But, I know what she's going to do. She takes a deep breath and responds, "I didn't miss you."

"You're lying." I tried to void my voice of emotion. I know she feels just as much as I do for her. Fae's not someone who has to reciprocate an 'I love you.' She's the kind of girl who would say 'Thanks' and call it a day. I turn my back on her and sit up, pulling on my pants and throwing my shirt on. "I don't know why you are, but you are."

"No. I didn't miss you, Cal. We had fun in the second semester of our senior year. But that's all it was. Fun. Two people who were a little less lonely than they might have been."

"And last night?" I challenge her, grabbing my shoes and socks. I can't stay here and listen to this. I don't know why she's saying these things, but I don't have to suffer through it.

She looks away and says quietly, "A mistake."

I stop with my hand on the door handle. "No, Fae. It was two people who love each other and have been separated for too long. But tell yourself whatever you have to. If you let me walk out this door, I'm not coming back. I'm going home and having the Selection. And marrying a girl who isn't you. I love you, Fae. With everything I am. But it's up to you." I hold out an arm to her, but she shakes her head and I drop it.

"Go. Go home. I can't be what you want me to be, Calix." Her face is composed, and her mouth is firm. She sits straight up, with the sheet around her, and points to the door. "I don't love you."

I turn and stalk out of the room, letting the door slam behind me. I pause as I hear her sobs begin, but I will myself from running to her. She made her choice.

The maids scurry out of my way as I storm away from her door and right into Auntie Nic at the end of the hallway. She is livid, her fists resting on her hips. I have never seen Auntie Nic's eyes so narrow or her face so pursed. Her voice is quiet and sword-sharp. "Calix Shalom Schreave, I told you that the time for fun and games is over. What in the hell do you think you're doing? And in my palace as my guest, no less."

"You think this is fun and games?" I shout back, tears forming in the back of my eyes. I will not cry. "Nothing. I'm doing nothing. And you never have to worry about it happening again." I gesture back towards Fae's room. "She's made sure of that." I move to walk by, and she puts a hand on my arm, stopping my forward motion. I can't raise my head to look at Auntie Nic's face, if I do I will lose it right in the middle of the corridor. "Please, let me pass."

"Dio mio. Cal, you love her," her voice is surprised and the edge is gone.

Refusing to meet her eyes, I respond barely above a whisper, "I thought we loved each other. I know better now." She releases me, and I make my way back to my room. Where I should have stayed last night. I open the door, and Ethan is waiting on the bed, grinning. "Not a word," I warn, not in the mood for any teasing as I head for the bathroom. "Call the pilot and get our things together. We're leaving."

For the first time since I met him, Ethan simply nods and follows my instructions.

* * *

**Thanks so much for sticking with me, everyone! I appreciate your comments. So much fun to read! :) -SJ**

PrincessIndia: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I can guarantee that Calix will have his Selection. I'm so glad you liked it. :)

Penguinslovely0: Thank you so much! So sweet that you liked _After_. And, I'm glad you're enjoying this fic, too. Hope you stick around! :)

meeraratani: Awww, thanks! Calix will definitely have his Selection. But, will Fae be in it? You'll have to wait and see. What do you think after this chapter? :)

jthornestudent: Always great to read your review. Bracket information below, my friend! :)

AcademicGirl: I know, right? Hope you don't have to scream into your pillow too often! Thanks! :)

Strike OOO: Thanks! Brie is a great sister, isn't she? Plus, she has had to survive with all those brothers... Poor Cal. I appreciate you continuing to read! :)

Flam3nco: Thank you so much. I hope the chapter didn't disappoint! :)

PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: See the game below all the comments. Thank you so much-that's sweet. :)

Prnamber3909: She is kinda squirrel-ly, isn't she?

fantasybookgirl: Well, we found Fae. What do you think? I *heart* Brie, especially in her interaction with Cal. We'll see more of her later, for sure. And, see the bracket game below. Thanks for reading!

The Devil Wears Westwood: Well, friend, I don't think it is wrong. But, what do you think about how it went down? I feel bad for him, too. Thanks for sticking with me. Always like to see your name pop up. :)

Guest: Thanks, so much. You're so sweet!

azure blue espeon: Thank you so much-and never feel like you have to review. Only review if you want! :)

* * *

The Bracket Game

So, here's what I did... I picked leading men from the books/series I've read recently. I am now calling the bracket: Best Man (Whether the Heroine Ended Up with Him or Not). So, I picked 16 men total and put them in a random bracket generator. Here are the men:

Tobias "Four" Eaton (Divergent); Alex (Delirium); Warner (Shatter Me); Adam (Shatter Me); Xander (Matched); Fade (Razorland Series); Maxon (The Selection); Aspen (The Selection); Ky (Matched); Akiva (Daughter of Smoke and Bone); Day (Legend); Lend (Paranormalcy); Peregrine (Under the Never Sky); Peeta (Hunger Games); Gale (Hunger Games); Mal (Grisha Series)

For those of you who want to play, put your vote in the comments. :) The first vote: Xander (Matched) OR Maxon (The Selection)


	8. Chapter 8

**Welcome to the latest installment! :) SJ**

* * *

I spend the plane ride home trying to erase every fond memory of Fae. I am not successful. The more I try to not think about her, the more I think about every moment we spent together. I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes. Auntie Nic was right—I shouldn't have talked to her after the ball. Never should have cooked her dinner. Never should have kissed her. Never should have let her bring me soup when I caught her cold.

That weekend in February is when I knew for sure that I loved Fae, though I waited almost two more months to say it. She showed up in jeans and a sweatshirt, hair twisted into a knot at the back of her neck, bearing chicken noodle soup and crackers. Ethan thought it would be funny to let me answer the door myself, my oversized terry cloth robe covering my flannel pajamas. We spent the weekend on the couch, watching old movies. She was fascinated by stories of life with a big family. And, I learned about her stints in Swendway boarding school with school breaks in Italy. Her life as an only child of wealthy, anonymous parents is so different from mine. There were times as children where our visits to Auntie Nic were only separated by hours. But we were always separated. She held my aching head in her lap and rubbed my forehead as I fell asleep. And the next morning, she was still there. And the next. And every morning from then on.

I hadn't done more than grunt at Ethan's attempts at conversation for the last few hours, and he had given up and seated himself with the guard instead. I just didn't think I could stand any pity. But he joins me again, and I know this time I have to pull it together and respond.

"Don't mean to bother you, Cousin," he begins.

"But you will. So, just tell me what you have to tell me," I reply in monotone with my eyes closed. I rest my head on my seat. Maybe if I seem totally uninterested, he will leave me alone for the rest of the flight.

"I thought you'd want to know that Nic wants you to call as soon as you can when you arrive. She said it doesn't matter the time. And call her personal number, not the office line."

"Why? So she can yell at me again? No thanks."

"I get it, Cal. Believe me," he insists quietly. I vaguely remember a girl, but I don't remember her name. Especially since she stopped coming around about the same time that Ethan agreed to be my guard away at school. "I don't think she's going to yell. Don't cut out everyone who cares for you. You're lonely enough right now."

I don't answer him. And eventually he gets up again and I finally doze.

* * *

I throw my tie and jacket in a heap on the floor, reviewing the latest meeting I suffered through with Dad and Stephen. (The last week had been nothing but meetings and more meetings…) Mom excused herself hours before to look in on Kort and Tyrmian. I wanted to do the same. Since I'd been home, I'd barely seen my littlest brothers. It was the meeting before the actual meeting with the advisors, and though I know it is necessary to make sure I am prepared, they are tedious. Parliament is getting edgy because of the elections, and the citizens of Illea are looking forward with both interest and a healthy dose of fear. All Stephen's polls tell me one thing: the people are telling us what they think we want to hear. They've never known the freedom to do any differently. True elections hadn't happened for so long, the people aren't quite sure what to expect and neither are we.

I lie back in bed, thinking about these things, instead of what I'd like to focus on. I take her picture out of my pocket, and regret it almost immediately. I move to tear the photo in half, but can't make myself do it. "Why are you such a coward?" I mutter to myself. I launch myself off the bed and shove the picture face down in my bedside drawer. I need to be done mourning her. Mourning us. Everyone needs me to be focused and functioning wholly, and I am limping along. I find myself wishing that I was still in my apartment with Ethan right in the next room, but instead remember a door is the only thing that separates me from the Princess Suite.

Which reminds me of the Selection.

I wander over to the door and open it. The room is empty, almost creepily so. Next year, a woman—my wife-would keep her things in here. I can't even imagine her right now.

Has Illea ever had an abdication? I know one of Gregory Illea's sons faked his death. Uncle August's grandfather. Would that count? I have literally been born for this purpose, and have always looked forward to taking on my responsibilities. Even sitting in Latin study, I knew that learning several languages would help me as king. I saw how easily Mom switched from Italian to French to German to Spanish and back to English as she mingled at State events. People admire her, and appreciate that she uses their language. Plus, as people underestimate her abilities, it is invaluable for eavesdropping. College was supposed to help prepare me to take on the mantle of king, not make me want to leave it behind.

I close the door and pace the perimeter of my room. I glance at my watch. It's 1:00 AM. But sleep isn't coming anytime soon. Maybe my time would be better spent in my study, catching up on everything I'd been pushing to the side. I'm tired of listening to the other thoughts rattling around my brain.

I run my hands through my hair in an attempt to arrange it, but don't bother to re-tuck my shirt or put on my jacket and tie. The palace staff could glimpse how hard I am working as I prepare to become king. That couldn't be a bad thing. Especially since they have daily examples of Dad's dedication.

I start ticking off a checklist in my head as I walk down the hall. So, I don't notice as I barrel straight into Commander Leger, who has stopped to greet me in front of my study.

"Whoa, Prince Calix," he laughs, as he regains his balance with the help of a nearby guard. "Great matters of state on your mind?"

"Sorry, Commander Leger," I smile back, "I guess you could say that." I like the Commander. His history has always intrigued me. He is always a faithful member of my father's team, and serves as Head of Defense. He'd been at the palace nearly as long as my mother, and even guarded her door when she was in the Selection. He has two daughters, one older and one younger than me. And his wife used to be one of Mom's maids. Mrs. Leger refuses to set foot in the palace now. She was here when my grandparents were killed and didn't return until my ninth birthday party. That's when hell literally broke loose and we were attacked by Loyalists. Mrs. Leger is convinced if she visits us, the night will end in a safe room. "How's the family?"

"Please call me Aspen."

"I don't know if I can do that quite yet. Maybe after I'm married?" I joke as we both take a seat in the chairs across from my desk.

"Are you looking forward to the influx of women into the palace as much as I am dreading managing the background checks and ensuring security protocols are in place?" He teases, reminding me of his involvement in the Selection. As always, the Commander would be looking out for our safety.

"Of course," I say, attempting enthusiasm, but falling decidedly flat.

Commander Leger raises his eyebrow, "So, there's another girl?" Apparently, my love life is the talk of this place.

"No one. Not anymore, anyway." I can't believe I'm sharing this with him right now. I could have had a normal conversation in this place without anyone else knowing about Fae. "She's made her decision, and now I'm living with it." I shrug and lean back. "What else can I do?"

"Cal, we've all been there. It takes some of us longer than others to accept that someone is unattainable. But in the end, the sooner we do it, the sooner we can recognize the right person. Better to happen before the Selection, right?"

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, Commander?"

"Someday, Calix, I'll tell you the whole story. But, if I hadn't been able to move on, I wouldn't have my wonderful wife and two beautiful girls. And I can't imagine my life without them."

"I'm doing the right thing, then?"

"Letting her go? Especially when it is her choice?" He stands, and claps me on the shoulder, "Definitely." As he reaches the door, he turns, "And knowing that eventually makes the pain go away. And you start sleeping at this time of night." He flashes me a knowing grin, nods at the guards, and heads back into the hallway.

I'm left to the reports on my desk, and the vague feeling that everyone in this palace knows me better than I know myself.

* * *

**Does it get old for me to say "Thanks for reading"? Because I mean it every time. Thanks for reading, and when you feel like it, reviewing. :) SJ**

**AcademicGirl: Awww, I'm sure Calix would like you! But, alas, he is pretend... Do you think Aspen gave the right advice? Do you still dislike Fae? :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: I really like MATCHED, but not everyone I know likes it. I like the writing when it is from the main heroine's POV. It's lyrical, almost like poetry. I have a MATCHED quote on my profile. And it so pins what writing is to me. But definitely use the OVERDRIVE app and read it digitally from the library. :) Maybe there will be a better match for Cal...we'll have to see.**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: That is definitive. Noted! :)**

**The Selection Fangirl: Got it! :)**

**CashmereHerondale: Thanks so much. That's sweet of you. :)**

**fantasybookgirl: I know-why is she so danged stubborn?! :)**

**Selection Fan: Thanks so much. Fae's hard to read, isn't she?! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, too! :)**

**PrincessIndia: What do you think so far? It's kind of neat to see the palace from this point of view, right? :)**

**Guest: Got it. Wouldn't have expected less. :)**

**meera ratani: Thanks so much! Waiting is hard sometimes, but usually worth it. Fae seems to balance him out, doesn't she? You are so sweet about my writing. I appreciate it! And, regarding the game, I thought it was so funny that Maxon came up in the first bracket. I'm sure that I could calculate the odds, but argh. Brain tired. ;)**

**agb1700: Got it. Enjoyed your update. :)**

**Prnamber3909: I know. Come on, Calix is a Prince of Illea, but he's also a sweetie... Her loss? ;)**

**luv2read4reading: I think I know your vote for this bracket. Day's a pretty awesome character!**

**Strike OOO: I question Fae's intelligence right now, too. :) And, as to the bracket, I was so surprised Maxon came up in the first vote, but it didn't surprise me that he swept our voting! He's so much more interesting than either KY or XANDER, isn't he. :)**

* * *

And now, the bracket. Maxon (The Selection) VS Xander (Matched)... Winner: **MAXON** (I don't think we're surprised.) Next match up? **Akiva (Daughter of Smoke and Bone)** OR **Day (Legend)** If you want to play, just add your choice to the comments.


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm doing a little dance about all the new ****_Selection_**** news. Yay, KC! Yay, us! Responses to reviews and bracket below. Devil Wears Westwood—Here's me making good on my promise. :) As always, thanks for reading! XOXO, SJ**

* * *

The phone on my desk rings, waking me from a deep unintentional sleep. I sit up in my desk chair and answer it, trying to pretend I hadn't just been roused, "Hello?"

"Ah, so you did survive the plane ride back to Illea. I was unsure as I hadn't heard from you," Auntie Nic's voice came loud and clear across the continents. I glance at my watch. It's 5:00 AM. She's just finished her late lunch.

"How did you know I'd be at my desk?"

"And your friend Ethan? He survived also?" Her question is obviously rhetorical, and toned sharp enough I could lose an appendage.

"I believe so. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" I work to keep the annoyance out of my voice. Nic has always been close to our family, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to talk about my transgressions.

"Calix, dear. I just want to make sure that you're well. I did not like how we parted. I regret I was so hard on you. Although, not returning my call is a bad habit to get in to. When Auntie Nic leaves a message, you should return it." Auntie Nic's voice has a special lilt to it, like she could simultaneously laugh or tear your eyes out, and either option would be fine with her.

I sigh, and stretch, making sure she can hear it on her end, "Yes, I know. Now we're even? Auntie Nic, I fell asleep at my desk and I have meetings all afternoon. Plus, I haven't made a family dinner since I returned home. Please, just tell me what you need to tell me."

"I have a question for you, Cal. And you must promise to tell me the absolute truth." My frustration is building, but I promise and hear, "Good boy. Now, do you love Fae?"

"Auntie Nic, that is not fair. You know the answer to that question and you know that what I say doesn't matter. I'm honoring Fae's wishes."

"Well, if I may say," she begins.

"No," I cut her off. "No. I really don't want to hear anything in regards to Fae right now. It's enough to know she doesn't want to be with me. The reasons why don't matter anymore. I'm done." I switch gears, "Now, if you'll share how you manage to get through all your day-to-day meetings, I'd appreciate it."

Auntie Nic's throaty laugh takes over the connection, "Oh, my dear, the weight of that crown gets heavy, does is not? The one time I had sole rule of a country, I could not wait to give it back! Perhaps I'm not the best person to talk to about this one? Because, as you know, I'm still a princess." I can almost hear her wink as she refers to her prior work in France and her current standing in Italy. It finally occurs to me that she likes that she has not had her coronation yet. That she is still princess by her own design.

"Right," I finally laugh. "Auntie Nic, I really need to go."

"Yes, of course. I will be calling again soon. Maybe your old auntie has more advice where that came from Calix, dear."

The click comes before I can say anything else, and I am stuck holding the receiver and shaking my head. It occurs to me that if Auntie Nic and Mom get a notion to take over the world, they could do it with very little resistance.

* * *

Ethan's hook comes predictably, and I dodge, fake, and connect with his jaw. I don't pull. He's not expecting a full-power hit, and he doesn't brace for it. He hits the mat with a thud. A part of me that I'm not proud of is quite satisfied with itself.

"Shit, Cal," Ethan exhales as he grabs my offered hand and scrambles to his feet. "What was that for?"

I turn and take a swig of my water, using the edge of my t-shirt to wipe my face. "Sorry." My tone and body language show that I am not.

"Look, Cal. I get it. You're pissed at the world. You're in a situation you're not happy about."

"I don't want to talk about it."

He growls through clenched teeth, "I don't really care whether you _want_ to talk about it. We're going to talk about it, because the next time you sucker punch me will be your last." He moves inches away and commands, "Sit down."

Before I know what I'm doing, I obey by dropping to the mat where I am standing. He sits beside me; his look prompts me to speak. I mumble, "That night in Italy, I found her. The next morning, after, she said she didn't love me. She told me to go. I went."

"And now you go around, angry at the world. Shutting everyone out. Punching your best friend and confidant in a masochistic attempt to get even with her?"

"I guess. I don't know. Ethan, I did what you told me. I asked her in person. She told me." I threw myself backward on the mat and covered my face with an arm. "It's just not what I wanted to hear."

Ethan sighs, "The answer wasn't what I expected either, Cal. But she has her reasons."

"And the reasons will never be good enough. So, what do I do now?"

He's silent for a moment, and then he asks, "Cal, did you ever wonder what happened to Beth?"

"I don't know who you're talking about," I answer him from under my arm with my eyes still closed. If I keep my eyes closed, I can pretend this conversation isn't really happening.

"Of course," Ethan snorts and then continues. "Beth and I were engaged right before you decided you wanted to go to university."

I remember a tall brunette who trained with us, but I didn't pay too much attention to her. Why would I?

"And?"

"And? Really, Cal. _And_, I had a responsibility to Illea and you. Those commitments always outweigh personal wants. We don't always get what we want Cal, because the country and its people's needs are bigger than our own. Our choice is how we react to that fact."

I sat up on my elbows. "She left you." He shrugs it off, and grabs his own towel from around his neck. "Because of me." He just grabs his water, emptying the bottle. I think I abstractly understood loss. But now that I had lived outside of the palace, I understand what Ethan had given up to serve. I can't say if I was in his position that I would have done the same. How many others have done just that? "I'm sorry, Ethan." And I was, but the apology still felt empty. Not only do I need to sacrifice my relationship with Fae, but it is necessary for me to relinquish any type of mourning except in the privacy of my own room. I've been an ass. "Where is she now?"

"Who? Beth? I have no idea."

"Really, you're going to lecture me about Fae and you haven't looked for Beth at all? You want me to channel my energies into something productive? I think I have my new project," I grin.

Ethan rolls his eyes, "Don't you have a Selection to get ready for?"

"Sure, but I suddenly have all this time I need to occupy that I used to spend sulking." We're both laughing now.

"Okay, Cousin. Enough. Don't you have a meeting to go to?"

"I think the real question is when don't I have a meeting?"

* * *

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. Dad's conference table is crowded with Dad, Mom, Commander Leger, Barrett, Griffin, Stephen, Gavril, and Asa Sutton, Head of Parliament and chair of the provincial election committee. Before his appointment, Sutton was Mayor of Clermont. Aunt Marlee sits at Dad's desk, taking notes, because every other seat is occupied.

The group is debating the pros and cons of different mayoral candidates, and my quiet suggestions are being brushed to the side.

"Abbott of Whites is a strong candidate with a history of supporting the current monarchy. He would be a good choice," Sutton comments. And, I decide to make myself heard.

"Why are we backing candidates again?"

"Because the people want to know who we would support if we were voting." The Head of Parliament seems like he enjoys talking to me as a small child.

I don't back down. "Yes, but why have an election if we tell the people who to vote for?"

"We need to make sure that the leaders are strong," Dad offers, quietly.

"Then why not just _appoint_ the mayors as we've always done? What's the point of an election if we already know who we want to win? We are already picking the candidates."

Mom looks thoughtfully at me; Baer and Griffin cock their heads. Gavril and Commander Leger sit, composed and removed from the discussion.

"Yes, but," Stephen starts, unable to help himself.

"But, what?" I challenge him.

"According to polls, eighty percent of the people want-"

I don't let him finish. "Eighty percent of the people want to find out what we want and then give it to us! We're not creating choice, we're creating the illusion of choice." I'm irritated at everyone, not just Stephen. But, I focus my energy on the fidgety, over-eager man. "Eighty percent of the people in this room find your statistics annoying. Ten percent of the people in this room wish you would have somewhere else to be. Five percent would prefer silence from you." I wait a beat, "And the other five percent don't know you exist." A table of shocked faces stare back at me. Even Mom looks taken aback. I realize I went a step too far, so I stand muttering, "I need some air" as I exit the room.

* * *

**luv2read4reading: Hmmm…I think I could have guessed! :)**

**CashmereHerondale: Aww. Fae can be difficult to get along with, I'll give you that… And, Day…there's something about him, isn't there? :)**

**Theoneforever: So glad you liked it! Aspen was never a bad guy—just a little hard-headed. I'm looking forward to that moment, too. Probably happen very close to the end. And, your preference for Day is noted! Here's your update! :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Aspen is such a good guy—and I am thinking we might find out what happens when Calix finds out about them. I think Cal is beginning to look forward to his Selection… **

**Strike OOO: Well, Calix isn't exactly a boy scout, but he is a sweetie. Think Maxon, but experience with women and America's headstrong streak… Pretty dangerous-I think so. :) You have to read MATCHED and LEGEND…I guess you don't have to, but you would probably enjoy them! :)**

**dolly123: Thanks for reading! What do you think about the call between Auntie Nic and Cal? I think if she could pull him through the phone and whack him one, she would. :)**

**AcademicGirl: Weird to log in, isn't it! I've been in that habit, too. :) I always appreciate it when people appreciate my efforts… so, does that mean I'm too interested in the comments. Maybe. :) And, I'm far from perfect, but thanks for saying so. Sometimes I think my writing falls absolutely flat, or I can't get it just the way I want… Poor misguided Fae. She makes you wonder, doesn't she?! Interesting think about Legend, I actually read the series out of order because I was tired of waiting for the books from my library. So, I read it Book 2, Book 3 and then Book 1. I knew the series was going to be good when I could totally understand Book 2 without reading Book 1. Although, I was a little disappointed when I finally read Book 1. I do like Day, but Akiva… *swoon.* Sometime between studying and UPDATING your stories… you should read DAUGHTER of SMOKE and BONE. ;)**

**Fantasybookgirl: I feel the same way about Aspen. He was never bad, just misguided. :) I miss Fae, too. Maybe she'll show up later? Then again, maybe not. And, no worries about not reading MATCHED or LEGEND. But, they are good. :)**

**Meeraratani: Oh, thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it. How 'bout this one? And, noted, Day is a fav! :)**

**Selection Fan: Thanks so much—so happy you are still reading! **

**coralsea25: Saw your name pop up and thought—so happy you're back! Awww, thanks! Glad you like it! :)**

**prnamber3909: Sorry…don't be lost. Fae and Calix were so good together, but are they really meant to be? It's hard to tell… they are so stubborn! Hang with me and let me know what you think! :)**

* * *

Bracket Winner: **Day** (Although, really, if you haven't read Daughter of Smoke & Bone… Such a good series! I *heart* Akiva. Though, Day is really awesome, too… :)

So, next up: **Warner** (Shatter Me) VS **Fade** (Razorland Series)… Oh, pretty evenly matched for me!


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for continuing to read! The site has been so glitchy for me over the last few days, and school started again today! (Eeek.) So, this writing has officially become procrastination from research projects. :) SJ**

* * *

Before long, Dad is calling after me and I slow my pace. "Calix. Cal, wait a second." I stop and let him catch me so we enter my study together. His voice is stern when he asks, "What was that display all about?"

"I'm not sorry."

"Well, regardless of whether you are sorry or not, it would probably behoove you to apologize. If it were me, I would prefer to have the Head of Parliament in my back pocket."

"Dad, you already do. You appointed him."

"Calix, I know you know that we can't lose our composure like that in front of our advisors. So, please share what went so horribly wrong that you took your annoyance out on someone intent on helping you." Dad crosses his arms across his chest and waits for my response.

"Dad, do you notice that the polls are always eighty percent of the people saying the same thing? There's a reason. The people are trying to tell us what they think we want to hear. You're benevolent and they want to please you. But, if we are truly allowing the people to hold elections and granting more power to the citizenry-"

"Son, we have to be patient. The country is still reeling from the dissolution of the castes and the installation of Parliament."

"There's a time for patience and there's a time for trust. This doesn't have anything to do with patience. We aren't trusting the people. No one seems to understand."

Dad runs his hand through his hair, a gesture I've seen thousands of times before. He seems to be rolling my words around in his brain before answering. "You're right, Calix, we don't. We haven't had the opportunity. We are just beginning to emerge from generations of cruel and oppressive rule."

"And that's why we have to turn more of the decisions over to the people. You and mom have taught us empathy, but what if my son or his son is selfish? Or what if the younger son of my great, great grandson decides he would rather rule? Diminishing our power is the only way to protect our people long term. Who else will guarantee their voices are heard generations into the future?"

Dad stays silent as he looks at me. "All good questions. And I don't have an answer for you right now. You know so much about these types of situations from a historical perspective Cal. We need your help. Your _calm_ and _rational_ help. I have a proposition for you. I'll work on my trust if you work on your patience?" He holds out a hand for me to shake.

"Okay," I relent. "As long as we can agree Stephen is a giant pain in the ass?"

"Agreed. But, Cal," Dad grins, "You are, too, and we keep you around."

* * *

Griffin lounges on my bed while Barrett looks at the maps on my walls. Old maps have become a hobby of mine. I can find them easier in Europe, and have managed to acquire some reprints of the United States of America. It feels odd to read Mom's name as a country on a map. But Grandmom Magda says that's what she is named for, because of her fighting spirit. I lean back in my desk chair, feet on the bed, looking at the application they brought me.

"This is really good, guys," I nod as I toss it on the bed next to Griffin. "I like the addition of an essay, but how are we going to read them all?"

They exchange a glance, and Baer answers, "Well, we thought we'd look at them as a family and narrow the applications from each province to the top three. Then let the security team complete background checks. However you narrow them down from there is up to you. And, probably Mom and Dad."

"Of course Mom and Dad," Griffin laughs. "Can you imagine Mom not wanting to be involved?"

"And when we say family, we mean Kort, Uncle Evan, Aunt May, Aunt Marlee, Miss Paige, Grandmom. Basically anyone who'll read them for us. This is pretty important—choosing a new sister."

I don't know why I hadn't thought about it like that before. My brothers are interested because the woman I choose will be becoming a part of the family. Plus, they have their own Selections to consider. "And if this works for me, then it will work for both of you, right?" I am a little jealous as they communicate through another look at each other. They have always been able to read each other's minds.

"Hey, it's an added benefit!" Griffin smiles. "You're the guinea pig, and when it's our turn, it should be a smooth process."

A soft knock at the door announces Mom's entrance. Her hair, still bright red without a trace of grey, is braided down her back, and she has thrown an oversized white robe over her blue checked pajamas. Because I am twenty-two, I know in my head that makes Mom forty-four. But it is hard to believe. She smiles, her light laugh lines accentuating her mouth and eyes, "It's good to see all my big boys in one place," she teases lightly as she steps in the room. "I just wanted to say good night before it gets too late." She's looking pointedly at Baer and Griffin. "I believe you two have a math test in the morning?"

They both groan, and I quickly say, "Sorry, Mom, they were helping me with the Selection application. I didn't realize how late it was getting."

She looks at all of us, and her expression is light. She truly is happy we are all together. "Eventually, these two are going to have to take ownership for their own behavior," she laughs as she throws her arms around Baer and pulls him into a hug. When she releases him, she plants an intentionally over-sloppy kiss on Griffin's cheek, and tells them both to head to their room. I almost forgot they aren't in the nursery any more. We graduate to our own rooms at twelve, so Tyrmian is the last one in our family to use the nursery. Well, probably. You never know with Mom and Dad.

"Night, Baer. Night, Griffin. Meet me in the training room after lessons with Kort and Tyr. We'll play horse." In response, their grins get even wider. For all their training and aptitude for rule, they are still fifteen year old kids. And, I really want to play. Too bad Brie is already gone. She almost always beats the lot of us at that game.

Mom closes the door, then takes a seat at the edge of the bed. "They really look up to you, you know," she says softly and pats my foot. I just shrug, and she pauses a bit, studying my face and picking up the application draft off of the bed. She places it back gently, takes a deep breath, and continues, "Cal, I know you're moving forward with the Selection. And, I know you've always pictured yourself picking your wife this way. But, I need to know, is this still what you really want?"

I don't know what I am expecting Mom to say, but this isn't it. I don't answer for a minute, and she waits quietly for my response. I know I won't be able to stay silent. Mom will sit here until morning if that's what it takes to get a candid answer. "I think so. I'm not as sure about anything, Mom. There's a difference between looking forward to something and then actually getting it."

"And Fae?"

I collect my thoughts, because I have to be past mourning. "Mom, she doesn't love me. Or, at least she doesn't love me enough." I take another breath. "I saw her in Italy. And she was very definitive. It's over with Fae." I look up at her, and hope she sees a young man instead of a little boy meeting her gaze. She stands to put her arms around my shoulders. Something she can't do when I stand.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I was ready to say to hell with this stupid tradition if that's what you needed. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Mom?" I rarely hear my mother curse, and never hear her talk badly about the Selection. "When I thought Fae loved me, I was ready to ask to sacrifice the tradition. But, she doesn't. And, I really don't want to talk about it anymore." She nods, understanding I am tired of hashing and rehashing the details. I wait another minute and then ask, "What do you mean stupid?" Brie is the only other person I've heard berate the Selection—at least in the palace. "Don't you listen to Stephen? The country is solidly behind a Selection." My eyes glint as I tease her.

She sighs, "Cal, thirty-five women in the same place who want the same thing are a terrifying force of nature. Some will truly want to see if they can form a relationship with you. Some will be enchanted by your power and your station in life. And there will be a mixture along the spectrum. I came to get your grandmother off my back. If you're lucky, you'll be like your dad, and find a woman who is willing to tell you when you are being an ass and who thinks your mother is a saint." She smiles then, and ruffles my hair. There is something comforting in the gesture. "One thing you have on your dad is that you are entering the Selection with some life experience."

I look at her quizzically. She has never approved of my "life experience."

"Don't misunderstand. I still don't agree with some of the choices you made when you went to school. But a benefit is that you realize how women can be mesmerized by the acclaim of being with the Crown Prince of Illea. I don't see you making the same mistakes or being as naïve. And that will play in your favor."

"The Selection is how you met Dad."

"Yes, and he's just lucky he found me and I fell so deeply in love with him." She takes my chin, "Just promise, you find that girl in the Selection or you let them all go. Don't settle for a good-enough choice or the country favorite."

I'm confused by her strong reaction, but I promise. She seems satisfied as she heads to the door. "Cal, I may be a queen, but I'm a mother first. And there's nothing I want more than your happiness. I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom." I'm fighting the emotions that threaten to overcome me, and hope she leaves quickly despite how much this exchange means to me.

"Good night, Cal. Try not to stay up too late." She spares one last glance over her shoulder and then closes the door behind her.

* * *

**Wow—all the wonderful reviews! So motivating for writing. I appreciate each and every one of them. If I miss one—please don't be offended. About four were lost in the infinite-ness that is the Internet for hours and hours after I approved them. Thank you so much for reading!**

**luv2read4reading: I know! So exciting! I've read the epilogue and the teaser for ****_The Queen_**** an embarrassing number of times already!**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Poor Cal! He is so conflicted… And, people are truly being ridiculous. He just needs to learn to use his nice words. And Ethan, who knew he would give up so much for king and country?!**

**Selection Fan: Thank you so much! I am glad you like my work. :)**

**Guest: Got it. Haven't met many people who have read Razorland, but I gave it a chance. And, wow. Really enjoyed it! **

**meeraratani: You are such a sweetheart. Thanks for continuing to read. You had no idea that I was already writing about siblings in the next few chapters. Next chapter, we get to hear from Brie, again, too. :) Calix is multilayered…oh, my little onion. Just when we think we have him pegged! And, I really appreciate your comments about my characters having depth. I put so much in to them, it is good to know that effort isn't wasted… :)**

**AcademicGirl: Calix ****_can_**** be a little sassy. Twenty-two, just home from college, freshly dumped, and living at home. Blah. Couldn't pay me to be in his shoes right now. At least he's employed! ;) Aw, and it's flattering that people are making sure that you didn't drop off the planet. Sometimes, it's good to know that others appreciate the writing. (And that my characters seem real! :) Because people are enjoying work that I think may be a little flat, it helps me to see the good as well as be hypercritical. My whole purpose in writing FanFic is to publish even when I don't think it is absolutely perfect yet. Because striving for perfection is soul-sucking work and you never reach a point where you can be satisfied. So, here's me, kicking my little imaginary friends out into the world and telling them to play. :)**

**Strike OOO: I know; he really needs to watch it, doesn't he? Calix needs to remember we all love him and want him to succeed. ;) And, regarding Warner. Don't disagree about the series, but totally agree with how I switched my ship mid-read. All of a sudden, I thought Adam was not good enough for her. (Don't treat me as someone who needs to be protected, jerk. Stand BESIDE me… :)**

**Dolly123: Thanks so much! I love Auntie Nic. She's been one of my favorite characters to continue… I really want to meet her in person… :)**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER: I know. Not quite fair or nice of Calix, was it? Maybe we can forgive him. He's had a rough couple of months. :)**

**BethClaire: You are going to be so happy to know that Claire is the name of one of the selected. I love that name! :) Thanks for reading. If you want, you can pretend you are the Beth in the story. That would be fine with me. :) And thanks for the sweet words about my writing. I appreciate it!**

**Jthornestudent: You never have to apologize for not reviewing, though I like it when you do! Glad you had time to take a break and read! :)**

* * *

Bracket Winner: **Warner**… Like I said before, to me Warner and Fade were pretty evenly matched… :)

Next Up: Ky (Matched) VS Lend (Paranormalcy)

**Until next time…thanks for reading! :) SJ**


	11. Chapter 11

**Two more chapters before the Selection begins… Comments and bracket below. Thanks so much for reading, whether you review or follow or fav or not. XOXO -SJ**

* * *

I am mulling over my latest conversation with Auntie Nic. She keeps her promise to stay in touch and has been calling at least weekly. Her last question no more than an hour ago was, "Cal, do you really want to be king?" And, then she hung up. Thanks a lot. The stage lights from the _Report_ set are blinding, but I look into the cameras with a composed look on my face as I have for as long as I can remember. After talk of the elections and the economy, Gavril turns his full attention to me.

"Now, Prince Calix, it seems like you have a reason to be excited this evening."

I smile, "It would seem so, Gavril."

"I thought you might explain the change made in the Selection process, and why those changes are so important. Then, we will share the names of the thirty-five women arriving at the palace in just a few short weeks."

So, I quickly detail the changes and the reasoning, ending with, "And, of course, we are looking forward to welcoming everyone." I end with my best smile, and Gavril winks at me.

"I'm sure you are, Prince Calix. I'm sure you are. So, without further ado, the ladies of the Selection."

I pretend I'm watching as pictures flick across the monitor, but really I am looking past it. Auntie Nic's question really bothers me. Of course I want to be king. It's what I am here for. It's why I do everything I do. Isn't it?

Dad's hand on my shoulder signals me that the broadcast is over, "Nice job tonight, Cal." His smile is genuine, "It can be dazzling, but I know you'll make the right choice."

"Thanks," I say, focusing my eyes, and glad he can't read my thoughts. "Thanks. I know I will, too." He pauses like he may say something else, but instead he pats my shoulder and answers Tyrmian's request for a piggyback ride. I watch them trot away, as if I am in a trance.

Eventually, I find myself in my study. I sit, and pull the file of winning Selection applications. I flip through the pictures of the women, the applications attached with staples. When narrowing the applications down to the final thirty-five, I paid little attention. But, I decide I'm going to try to learn their names before they arrive.

I'm startled by the ringing phone, especially since I already spoke with Auntie Nic. "Hello?"

"Hello, big brother. Saw your interview on the report. So, you're going through with it?"

"Good lord, Brie. What time is it over there? When's the last time you got up with the sun?"

She yawns audibly and I laugh. "Well, it is a little early. But, since I don't have to be on _The Report_, at least I can watch it. Sometimes, I actually miss you all."

"Oh, I see. Having fun finding yourself?" The thought occurs to me that maybe Brie hasn't been to sleep yet.

"I won't bore you with the details. But it is pretty amazing over here. I feel guilty that you are stuck at home with all your official duties and your suits and your endless meetings."

"I bet."

She taunts me, "Jeans, Cal. I wear jeans every day."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, you just called to ask about the Selection?"

"I just had to make sure for myself that you're okay with it. I saw your 'official response' but I want to know your real one," she pushes. "Are you really ready to meet a new girl right now?"

"Brie, I feel like I just had this conversation with Auntie Nic and Mom cornered me a few weeks ago. Fae told me in no uncertain terms that she is done with me. And the Selection is my duty, yes, but I am beginning to get excited about it. How else am I supposed to meet eligible women now that I am back home?"

"Well, at least all the current women in your life are smart and discerning. I want you to promise me that my new sister-in-law will be, too."

"Got it."

"And, Cal. Ensure that the women who are competing for your hand aren't questioned about their previous, um, experience, as it were." Her tone is serious.

"What? The application asks about work and school. What other experience is there to know about?"

"Oh, brother," she snorts. "Cal, Mom was asked about her _purity_. And if your advisors do the same, I will bludgeon you with your own hypocrisy."

I know I am turning red and am so glad she can't see it. "Don't worry, Brie. I really think that's a personal thing, right?"

"Cal, thirty-five women are about to lose all the privacy they've ever known because they were silly enough to fill out an application to compete to marry you. You don't think any deep dark secrets will be leaked to the media?"

"I'll talk to Dad and Gavril. We'll try to control it, Brie. Thanks."

"You're welcome. It's my job as your sister to look out for you and any woman senseless enough to fall for you."

"We've been playing horse every night after dinner, Brie. When you come home for Christmas, we'll have to have a rematch."

"Right, Cal. I miss you, too. Talk to you soon."

And just like that, I'm left with a dial tone. Auntie Nic must be teaching her well.

* * *

I stop in the entrance to the common rooms. Tomorrow the women of the Selection will take over the palace, and it is literally the last night of anything resembling normal family time. Nothing will ever be the same again.

Kort is curled against the arm of the couch, only his blonde hair visible over his book. Tyrmian is picking out notes with Mom on the piano. My fingers itch a little to do the same. How long has it been since I've taken time to play? Barrett and Griffin are taking up the rest of the couch watching a soccer game with the volume turned down low. Mary is preparing the table for a simple supper, as we will be having plenty of formal meals soon. I miss seeing Brie curled up in the chair with her sketchpad or reading something with Kort or Tyr. Or, more likely, rooting against Barrett and Griffin's soccer team just to get under their skin.

"Well, son," Dad's voice comes from behind me, "Taking a mental picture?" I move so that he can stand beside me on the far side of the room.

"I was just thinking I don't remember the last time it was just the eight of us. I guess the only constant is change?" I sound more wistful than I mean, and Dad studies me for a minute before answering.

"Cold feet?"

"Maybe nostalgia? Or body-gripping fear?" I'm trying to joke, but of anyone, Dad actually understands what I am going through.

"I was completely numb and totally oblivious to the ways of women." He nods to Mom and Tyr, "But look how well the Selection turned out for me, Cal. I never would have been able to meet your mother any other way."

"No regrets?"

"My only regret Cal, is that I tried to read a woman's mind. But, I think you're smarter than me in that regard. My best advice is to make absolutely no assumptions. And don't leave it to a bullet to force you to process your true feelings for someone."

"I thought you loved Mom from the moment you saw her." Did Dad leave his proposal until after the rebel attack where he almost died? Mom and Dad don't talk much about that time—I figure because it is too painful.

"I did. Let's just say she took a while to decide that I was the one for her," he stops talking and smiles as Mom approaches. She reaches up and gives him a kiss on his cheek, and then leans into him as he puts an arm easily around her shoulders. They are halves of the same whole. And, I've heard them have some amazing arguments over my lifetime, but nothing that tore them from each other's sides. That type of relationship is really what I am longing for, if I am honest. What if she isn't coming with her thirty-four closest friends tomorrow? What if I've already met her? What if I never will?

"Cal, let's eat," Mom says gently, pulling me out of my thoughts. Worry must be plastered across my face. "A little birdie told me you haven't had much today. It's hard to face anything on an empty stomach."

I let them guide me to the table, and then allow the comfort of my parents and little brothers to distract me from my main thought: I am supposed to meet my wife.

* * *

**I hope you are still enjoying reading! Next chapter we will have more Ethan…then in CH 13 the Selection begins! :) As always, thanks for stopping by, and when you feel like it, leaving a review! The chapters are coming up a bit more slowly because I have a proposal due on Monday. I am trying to get it finished by tomorrow night, but we'll see… :) **

**azure blue espeon: Oh, thanks! And, I name the kids by searching Google. All the names have special meanings. Calix is Maxon's middle name, and his middle name is Shalom (America's dad's name…) So he is named after Dad and Grandpa. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, too! :)**

**AcademicGirl: I know. Perfection is just a game to drive you crazy. The world doesn't end if I forget a comma…sometimes I have to remember that? I hope you found your bracelet. Sounds like you had a sucky day. :-/ Thanks for the writing props—it makes writing worth it, doesn't it! :)**

**SelectionFan: Thanks so much. Argh, I can hardly believe that the summer is over… :-/**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Awww, Mama America is my favorite. I wouldn't put it past the Schreave's… Not in the plans, but you never know. ;) Poor Calix. We'll see! :)**

**dolly123: Awww, thanks. Yeah, America is not thrilled about Calix's experience, but… Some of the series mentioned in the bracket are better than others. But I did enjoy reading them all! Happy reading! :)**

**Guest: (the first one) Aww, thanks. I appreciate you saying so! **

**prnamber3909: Soon, princess, soon! ;)**

**Flam3nco: How sweet! Thanks! You couldn't know that I had Maxon and Calix talking in this one, plus another appearance by Brie, too. I am so glad you like it and are following so closely! Sorry I can only update this much. :)**

**Guest: (the last one): Noted! Thanks for reading! :)**

* * *

**BRACKET**

For those of you playing the bracket game… KY is the winner. Not surprising… but if you haven't read the **_Paranormalcy_** series, you are missing out! :)

So, for the next bracket: Tobias "**Four**" Eaton (Divergent) VS **Peregrine** (Under the Never Sky)…oooh, that's a difficult one for me… What will you choose?


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for sticking with me! Happy reading, SJ :)**

* * *

I pace my room, about to do another lap of the hallway. The blinds are drawn on the family floor in a weird nod to tradition, even though I know each and every woman that will be coming through the door downstairs. Today is the day that they are assigned rooms, maids, and have makeovers. I sigh a little, thinking about what the Selection does to the kingdom balance sheets.

I spare a glance at my desk and the neat pile of project folders, but know now is not the time to accomplish anything else. After my outburst a few weeks ago, my parents have been allowing me a bit more elbow room and time to ease back into my duties. But, I can't decide if that is a good thing. More free time just gives me more time to mull over my own thoughts. And I am slightly apprehensive about my thoughts.

A familiar figure approaches. Ethan. For all his harassment, he is my best friend. I reflect a little bit. Possibly the only true one. Then, I smile, because he has no idea about what I have planned for today. The Selection accounts for most of my nervousness, but I save some for his reaction to his surprise.

"Cousin!" His familiar greeting and grin are comforting. "I came to distract you. Care to be distracted?"

"Well, it depends on what you are calling a distraction." I turn and wave for him to follow me down the hall. We head down the back stairwell to a little-used parlor on the second floor. It is on the opposite side of the palace as the Selected right now, but close to the kitchen and delivery exits. Aunt Marlee is waiting for us, as planned.

"What's going on?" he asks, obviously trying to solve the puzzle, as we walk deeper into the room. "We had to walk down here for breakfast?" He looks to Aunt Marlee for an answer, and she just smiles and allows him to stew. His eyes return to the table, set for an impressive brunch.

I gesture to the seat across from the one I take. "Have a seat, Cousin. I need some help deciding on menu items for future Selection meals."

"You know I'm always up for good food that I don't have to cook, but why are we being so formal?" He looks around, and then sits.

"I want to try some pastries and rolls from Aunt Marlee's favorite bakery in town," I explain and smile innocently at him.

I am surprised by how quickly his face pales, and he grips the arms of his chair. "This wasn't a good idea, Cal." His eyes dart around the room, trying to plan his escape. And then he spots her approaching the table.

He moves to stand and I do something I rarely do. I pull rank. "Sit, Officer. I have pastries to try, and I am suddenly feeling unsafe."

Ethan opens his mouth to argue, but soon snaps it shut as the tall brunette in typical catering attire—white button down and black pants—reaches us. She curtsies, adding, "Your Majesty, we are honored to offer a selection of our customer favorites." As she rises, her eyes meet Ethan's and she freezes. Her hands move to the hem of her bright white apron, and her fingers are soon entangled in it.

Neither moves for almost a full minute, and I clear my throat after Aunt Marlee gives me a pointed nod from near the door. "Miss Bakersfield? I am pleased to meet you." I notice something glints at her neckline, but I can't see the charm on the simple chain. She is not wearing any other jewelry.

The woman's hazel eyes are very wide as she whispers, "If I may be excused, please, Your Majesty, I—"

As gently as I can, I say, "No, I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that. Your work has come highly recommended. But, feel free to sit with us, and explain your delicacies." I stand, and pull a third chair from the table. She curtsies again and takes her seat, angling her body so her focus is directed at me instead of Ethan. He glares at me, his arms crossed across his chest and his characteristically wide smile completely replaced by the deep frown etching his features. Everything about his body language says he will kill me when he gets a clear shot.

She takes a deep breath and points to a golden-brown roll with a white icing cross. "This roll is a mirrored off an English religious tradition. It is called a 'hot cross' bun, and my family has been baking this recipe since before Illea was founded."

"Oh," I comment, "Your family has a long tradition of baking?"

"I am twelfth generation, Prince Calix. And, the only child in my family that continues the tradition." She bows her head, and I take the opportunity to make eye contact with Ethan. This news surprises him, and his anger begins to melt from his face.

He murmurs to her, "What about Thomas and Caroline?"

"Mom passed a year and a half ago. They wanted to leave and I didn't want them to stay out a sense of duty. So, I let them." She doesn't lift her head or turn to him. Her gaze looks intently at the plate of pastries.

A guard enters the room briefly. As soon as he leaves, Aunt Marlee hurries over to the table, her heels clicking across the floor, "Your Majesty, I am sorry to interrupt, but you have an urgent call."

Ethan moves to stand as I do, and I stop him with a quick shake of the head, "I'm sure this won't take too long. Officer, please stay and create a recommendation list for me. I trust your judgment."

He grumbles under his breath, "I'm not sure I trust yours." I smile when I hear it. And he knows he has no choice.

"Lady Marlee will be right by the door in case you need any assistance and to take your final recommendations," I remind him and exit the room. Aunt Marlee gives me a discreet thumbs up sign, and the guard whispers that my brothers are waiting in the training room when I am ready. I jog up the stairs to throw on shorts and sneakers. I can't wipe the grin off my face.

* * *

After soccer and lunch with my brothers, I distract myself in my study with a book about the political processes in the United States before the takeover by China. The Bill of Rights always draws my attention, and though our press is free to an extent, there always seems to be a stopping point. We still have State run newspapers, and of course Gavril is the only reporter with full access to the royal family. _The Report_ is still the main source of information for most of the country. This can't help but play a role in the upcoming elections, which I still feel are going to be a complete sham. We did the work of narrowing the field, not the people. And no one knows the difference, because except for a few university professors scattered across the country. Our history is not written and accessible for the common woman or man. And even though the castes were effectively eliminated years ago, many of the same families hold the purse strings for their provinces. "Getting ahead" is relative and depends on the quality of the education in the public school. Compulsory education is a step in the right direction, but some provinces do markedly better than others with similar resources. And, instead of channeling money to the education and food gap programs my family established, I'm siphoning cash for an archaic and expensive tradition.

My thoughts derail when Ethan suddenly appears in front of me and grouses, "That was some call, Cousin. You never returned. I was sure the country was burning to the ground."

"Oh, I would have called you to watch that. Are you ready to report?" I tease him, looking up from my book. "I am wondering how the rolls with the icing on top taste."

He spares me a grin, "They are wonderful, like always. Perfect for Christmas brunch." I offer him the arm chair next to mine, and he relents and sits. Maybe he isn't as angry as he pretends to be.

"And how was your time with the pastry chef?" I stick my bookmark between the pages to hold my place, and toss the volume to the floor beside the chair.

Ethan pauses, then answers, "Cal, that necklace she wears? The charm is the ring I gave her."

I try to look surprised. I thought it might be, as she didn't seem the jewelry type.

"She didn't show it to me, but she dropped her napkin. When she bent to pick it up, the necklace fell out of her collar." He looks at me a little dazed. "I had no idea her mom was sick for so long and that Tom and Car just left her to pick up the pieces alone. She loves to bake and that shop is her life, but it's also her albatross. She can never leave. She can barely even take a break."

I stay silent, hoping he will tell me more if I look empathetically at him.

He shakes his head, as if he has forgotten I am in the room. "And I just expected her to pick up and move with me when I was stationed away. I wouldn't listen when she tried to explain. I didn't even say goodbye. And she was stuck at home, taking care of a sick mom and younger siblings, running the bakery, watching our social life unfold in the gossip columns."

"Having a run as an ass in your early twenties is a family tradition," I assure him. "I should know. I'm trying to recover as we speak."

He laughs, and seems to regain his "Ethan" persona. "Definitely a true statement," he returns the jab.

"So," I ask, "How are you going to make it up to her?"

"Besides using your account to order several dozen pastries a day?"

I nod and grimace a little, "I suppose that's the least we could do, considering it is my fault you were separated in the first place."

"I'm going to pick up the order every morning, with your permission of course, Your Majesty." I pick up on the light sarcasm, but also on his intent. He's going to provide an opportunity to be around each other and see if anything comes of it. If nothing else, he will get closure, and so will she.

I don't bother to hide my pleasure, and take this as a good omen for the Selection. It is already bringing Ethan and Beth together.

* * *

Sleep came easily last night, but judging by the shadows in my room, it is very early. I grab my watch from my bedside table. I don't think 4:00 AM counts as dawn. I lie back on the pillows, willing myself back to sleep. But my nerves won't let me relax. I soon give up and ready myself for the day. At not even a quarter til, I am showered and dressed though I take as long as I possibly can. I examine myself in the mirror, decide good enough is good enough, and make my way to my study. The newspapers from Illean and international outlets are already on my desk, and I start to scan. I see in the Italian journal that Auntie Nic held a soiree recently. In the crowd shot, my eyes can't help but find her. Fae. Caught mid-laugh, her head thrown back, and hands clutching the arm of a handsomely decorated army officer. In an instant I know that she's moving on. I tell myself I'm glad as I violently crumple the page and send the edition hurling across the room. It's time for me to move on, too.

* * *

**Oh, how regular life takes time from my writing! :) I'm trying to speed up my updating, but oh, well. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoyed the latest installment! -XOXO SJ **

**azure blue espeon: Thanks—I enjoyed writing CH 11. Chapter 12 was a little more difficult. I really like the POV of Tobias/Four in the novellas. I'm not as crazy about his POV in ****_Allegiant_**** because I feel like he is really OOC? I don't know. But your vote is noted—reluctantly, you vote for "Four." :)**

**luv2read4reading: Got it! :)**

**jthornestudent: Thanks so much. You are such a sweetheart! You have got to read ****_Under the Never Sky_****. It's a strong trilogy. :)**

**dolly123: I love Brie's phone calls home. Hopefully, we'll get a visit during the Selection. Her schedule is so crazy, though… And, you got your answer re: Ethan/Beth and Cal's mission… :) What did you think? Regarding how long it would take to read those books with school in consideration, I guess it depends. I am not always the best gauge because I read pretty fast, and am willing to risk significant amounts of sleep to do it? I've been known to read 2500 pages per week… It's important to note that when I am finished, I have the gist of the story. If I want details, I have to read multiple times. I try not to binge read as much as I did last winter, but it's hard to restrain myself. So many books! So little time… :)**

**Theoneforever: Thanks for the props for the chapter. Never feel sorry for not reviewing, but I like it when you do! (And Tobias is noted!) Hope life still allows you to read! :) **

**Coralsea25: She tends to, doesn't she. Quirky Auntie Nic! Thanks for reading! :)**

**Guest: Got it.**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Thanks so much. I want Cal to be happy, too. Maybe he'll meet a sweetie in CH 13? I do like his interaction with Brie; he's such a boy, though. ;) And regarding ****_Allegiant_****, I can rant about that book for ages. Besides the timeline being jacked and the characters being OOC there is so much wrong with that book. I actually read it twice. Once by itself, and then once reading the first two again, making sure I hadn't missed something. I didn't. The book was just horrible, and not because of the character death. It just wasn't good… So, be glad you didn't waste your time? :)**

**prnamber3909: Soon—next chapter I promise! :)**

**AcademicGirl as Guest: Thanks so much. I try not to…I slip into it sometimes. Awww, maybe I need to name a Selection girl Academic. What province should she be from? ;) I'm sure he'd like you if he met you in person. But, he was pretty insistent about changing the age ranges for the Selection. I bet you and Barrett would be friends, though… And, YES about Peregrine. Although, I don't know why, but I hate calling him Perry. I think of a platypus then. So, in my head he is either Per or Peregrine. :) What do you think about this chapter?**

**soccerlurve: Still getting used to your new screen name. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing again! Glad you liked it!**

**Selection Fan: Thanks so much. I try really hard with the names because they are so important to understanding the characters, I think. They all have special meanings… :) Happy reading!**

**Flam3nco: I am so happy you liked it! Maxon really understands what Calix is going through, even if he doesn't understand him all the time… I am excited for ****_The Heir_****, too. Mostly because I wonder how many of the FanFics will come close to the story, or predict parts of it, at least! :) And, for the bracket game, I understand. But every bracket can't be Maxon against someone else. I agree with you about Per. Love the books. I was so disappointed in ****_Allegiant_****, that I soured a little on the whole series, even though I was totally into the first book! **

* * *

**Bracket winner: Tobias/Four Eaton… but if you haven't read ****_Under the Never Sky_****—it is so worth your time! :) **

**Next up: Peeta** (Hunger Games) VS **Alex** (Delirium) _I know who I would pick—what about you?_

**Until next time…hopefully, soon… :) SJ**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey, everyone. Thank you for being so patient with me! I had a big revision to do this week—finally submitted. Now, I wait for the next round. I hope you enjoy the chapter, because I rewrote the last part about three times. :) SJ**

...

Dad appears in my doorway, "It's time, Cal. Are you ready?"

"As ever, I guess." I try to keep the sourness out of my words. I asked for the Selection. I _want_ a Selection. Especially after this morning, I am ready to not give Fae a second thought. I'm ready to find someone to love me completely.

Dad looks at the newspapers on the floor. He picks the Italian one up briefly, then lets it flutter back to the floor. He studies me quietly, then extends his hand and half-lifts me out of my slumping posture. "How long have you been up?"

"Since before dawn," I shrug. That's normal for me. When I have to work through things, I am first up and last to bed. Dad's the same way.

He claps me on the back as we work our way down to the grand staircase to meet the rest of the family. "Have you thought about your strategy for today?"

"Well, I'm listening to both you and Mom."

"Really?" He raises and eyebrow, "Do explain."

"I'll do my first round of eliminations this morning. After breakfast, the women will meet me in the parlor, and I will make it a point to meet each one. The quicker I narrow the field, the better." The after breakfast contingency is specifically for Mom, and the other tactic is Dad's advice.

He laughs, "You make it sound so much easier than it actually is. But, nice of you to make sure they don't leave on an empty stomach." We finally reach our destination, only to see Vara with Mom and the boys.

Vara is the "etiquette police." I guess she truly is a protocol specialist, and she makes sure that we don't make any large faux pas when foreign dignitaries come to visit. The boys still have lessons with her, but I only see her if there is new protocol I don't know. She is not a woman that I missed while away. Her graying hair is twisted in a tight knot at the nape of her neck, and her spare frame is fastidiously attired in a navy dress and coordinating sweater. Her glasses are resting on the edge of her nose, and she looks as if she is biting back a reprimand of Tyrmian's fascination with the bannister while Mom is standing so close. At one time, she might have been a beautiful woman, if she wasn't so intent on perfection. The women behind the door of the grand dining room will have the express pleasure of spending a good part of their stay with Vara. My new wife will need a sense of humor, as her time with Vara will only grow when she wins the competition.

Mom breaks rank to hug me, and then straightens my shirt and tie. "You look handsome, Cal," she murmurs to me. She struggles through the next few words. "I am so proud of you." She touches my cheek, and then hugs me ferociously again.

"Okay, Ames. Give him a little space," Dad touches her back. And she loosens her grip and regains her composure by taking Dad's offered arm.

Vara claps twice to get our attention. "As we planned, Your Majesties, king and queen, then Prince Kort and Prince Tyrmian will walk carefully" she looks pointedly at Tyr "behind them. Then the twins. Then Prince Calix. Remember, Prince Calix. After the king greets the guests, you will do the same. Have you practiced your speech?"

I try not to roll my eyes at Vara. I hate it when she calls Barrett and Griffin "the twins." Like they aren't separate people with unique personalities. "Yes, Miss Vara," I say as graciously as I can manage.

She rewards me with a rare smile. Dad winks at me, and leads Mom down the staircase. My palms are suddenly slick with my own sweat. As Griffin and Barrett pass me, Baer whispers, "You realize, they're the ones that have to be nervous, right?"

Griffin grins, "Yeah, they're already _in love_ with you." He contains his laugh and walks confidently into the dining room. The bright lights of the cameras illuminate the space, and I can't believe I forgot they would be getting footage for _The_ _Report_. How could I forget that small detail? Constant video footage.

I take a deep breath and follow the rest of my family. I pause slightly inside the door, and see thirty-five heads turn my way. The colors and the smell of the elaborate breakfast almost overpower me. I make sure I am fully composed before allowing a small smile. Baer and Griffin are right, I have nothing to prove to these women. I join my family at the table, and hear Dad invite us to take our seats. After his short introduction, I stand and thank them sincerely for being here and serving their country. I can hardly believe I'm saying the words Vara planned for me. Then I invite them all to join me in the grand parlor when they finish their breakfasts. And I don't feel the least bit guilty that they don't know what is coming next.

...

Breakfast seems to pass in a blink and practically before I can comprehend what I am doing, I am moving alphabetically through the list of women. I sit down with "Bennington, Elizabeth" and prepare to smile when I realize that she's a slight brunette. In a picture, it doesn't seem to bother me. But now, face to face? There's no use mincing words. I can barely stand to look at her and abruptly ask, "Is that your real hair color?"

She looks surprised, but answers softly, "Yes, Prince Calix."

I remain seated, and gesture to the door. "Please, return to your room and prepare to leave the palace. A driver will be called." She doesn't argue and I ignore how her face crumples as she follows my command. The next few women I meet are smiling, and quiet. And not brunette. I allow them to stay.

I look up as an athletic-looking blonde curtsies. Charlotte Everly, according to the list. Her picture doesn't do her justice. "Miss Charlotte Everly?" I ask and she smiles wide, tucking a lock of curly dishwater blonde hair behind her ear.

"Call me Charlie, please," she insists and her eyes shine a bit brighter as she takes her seat. In our interesting, though short, conversation I discover that she's a competitive skier from Dakota, and has traveled almost as much as I have. Her grey eyes catch my attention, and I find myself staring for a moment until she looks down, her long lashes making a shadow on her cheeks.

I recover a little. "Charlie, I'm sorry to do this, but I need to meet everyone within the next hour or so. May l see you later this afternoon?"

She nods, and replies, "Of course." She curtsies and exits, throwing a smile over her shoulder for me.

I don't even look at the next name, because she's a brunette. She's going home. And so are the rest of the brunettes.

I feel a sense of satisfaction. I make short work of the list, asking some women to stay and dismissing others. I would have released more, but I was worried how that would translate in the newspaper the next morning. Damn Stephen. I didn't use to worry about those types of things.

Another woman approaches, and accepts my offer to sit. She's a short brunette. I doubt she's much taller than Kort. I don't bother to glance at her name before I say, "Is that your real hair color?"

"Yes, is blonde yours?"

Startled, I meet the gaze of a pair of warm brown eyes. Her response is sharp, and I notice she crosses her arms across the front of her dark pink dress as she raises an eyebrow and waits for my response. Viviana Soledad is barely keeping herself from laughing aloud. But I answer her, "You've seen my family on the report, what do you think?"

She finally laughs, and it is infectious. "I've noticed quite a few women with my hair color have left crying, Prince Calix. And, many were much more beautiful than me. Should I go collect my things?" Her tone is teasing.

"I think not," I grin back. "I think you can stay. That way," I say conspiratorially, "The reporters can't say I cut all the brunettes."

She winks, "Then I'll be seeing you for dinner?" Before I can answer, she hops up laughing, and heads for the door. She blows me a kiss as she exits the room.

I sit a little dazed. What just happened? I don't think I'll have any excuse for boredom with her in the palace. I only have a second to wonder before it's time to meet the next person.

An hour later, I take the back staircase to the third floor. There are several women who will be coming down the front that I don't want to have to explain anything to, seeing as I don't think I owe them anything more than the cordial breakfast they received. I think about the standouts besides Charlie and Viviana. There are just a few other women that I anticipate staying longer than just a few weeks. And I toy with the idea of moving straight to the Elite. I'd love to see Stephen's face if I would have been strong enough to eliminate twenty-nine women this morning. I grin as I take steps two at a time. I don't know why I was so worried before.

I go straight to my study and sit at my desk with the Selection applications in front of me.

Claire Harper, of Likely, is the only girl who asked me about how I am adjusting to being back home. Seems like a heavy question right after breakfast, but I like that her mind is on something besides marrying me. She's only a few inches shorter than I and willowy with white blonde hair and blue-green eyes. She blinks like someone unused to their contact lenses. She is a recent graduate from the University of Likely. I look forward to sharing our library with her.

Aubrey Knoll is a recent graduate of Columbia, too. Our paths must never have crossed, because I would have remembered those green eyes. Elodie Landry manages a dress shop in Kent. She's the only woman who grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. It was a bold move that could have backfired, but I didn't dislike it.

Norah Washington of Whites surprises me. Her family raises horses and she helps to manage the farm. She seems honest to a fault, and though she is quiet, I can tell she misses nothing. She is also kind, and was the first to ask me about how I was faring this morning and then listen to my response. I have never seen darker hair, it is more than black, and falls in soft waves down her back. I make a mental note to visit the stables. Ana Wright, daughter of philanthropist Xavier Wright of Paloma, is the final girl I meet. She's sweet, with dark red hair and brown eyes. Something about her manner encourages me to talk about myself, even as she's sharing details about her own life with me. She seems to forget that there is anyone else in the room during our short conversation, and I am the center of her attention. Unlike the others, she doesn't seem the slightest bit nervous.

I look down at my desk and realize I had inadvertently sorted the stack. The seven women I enjoyed meeting this morning were in alphabetical order on the right side of the desk. And the released women were in a stack all the way to the left. The others were in the middle.

A quick look at the clock tells me it is close to lunch time. I could go back downstairs, but I have a better idea. I scribble a quick note and pass it to a guard in the hallway, instructing him on his next steps before rushing off to my room to change.

...

**Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, everyone. It's so great, and believe it or not, helped me to push to get this written and rewritten and rewritten this week… I've already started on CH 14 tonight, so hopefully you'll have another installment sooner. XOXO SJ**

** meeraratani: Thank you so much. I managed to get your over 2000 words this time, but it took awhile. I'm not sure I'm completely happy with it, even now. But, I am so flattered that you like the story and even look forward to updates. :)**

**soccerlurve: Thanks for stopping by! I read your story. :)**

**dolly123: You're welcome. Sorry that I can't do it more often right now. Life so gets in the way of writing sometimes. I love Ethan and Beth together, let's see if it is destiny? What do you think about the girls so far? We have more meeting to do, don't we? :) And regarding Delirium, I enjoyed the book. But it has been a while. (I read it last winter.) **

**luv2read4reading: Got it! :)**

**AcademicGirl: My goodness, girl (AcademicGirl, hahaha), you have been updating so much this weekend! Back away from the computer. You are making me look bad! ;) And, the Selection has commenced! That's what took me so long. This chapter has been rewritten three times and I have the real world to deal with, too. Barrett, btw, is 15. And, of course he looks like the rest of the Schreave boys. Noted, regarding Alex. I haven't had a chance to see the pilot yet. Now I am going to waste some time doing that… :) **

**jthornestudent: Yay! Thanks for reading. What do you think of the girls? :)**

**guest: Got it. :)**

**azure blue espeon: Got your vote. Thanks so much for your chapter love. Hopefully this one didn't disappoint. :)**

**Selection Fan: So glad you like it! Here's the update for you! :)**

**Happyfaces501kim: I am so glad you are enjoying the fic. Sorry you had to wait so long for the update. And, Peeta is such a sweetie…**

**Flam3nco: Aw, Fae is such a hard one to read isn't she. So, the Selection started…though a little anticlimactically… Sorry about that. *fist bump* regarding Divergent… I will read the first book again and again, but I won't ruin the experience by reading Allegiant again… **

**username1096: I love your username. ;) Glad you are enjoying the story. How do you like the start of the Selection?**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: *wipes hand across forehead* Phew. Update accomplished. Cal can be a bit of a jerk sometimes…as this chapter attests. He just gets a little awkward… :)**

**CashmereHerondale: I love Ethan and Beth together, too—stupid palace keeping true loves apart…We'll see if they can overcome their past.**

...BRACKET...

And, the bracket winner: Peeta (by one vote, literally, it was close enough I had to keep a tally!) Very cool…

**So, the next bracket standoff: Gale** (Hunger Games) VS **Adam** (Shatter Me) _Will this one be as close?_


	14. Chapter 14

**So, another installment. Let me know what you think. Ya know, if you feel like it. Thanks! –SJ :)**

….

Claire is waiting for me in her room, and the light from the window makes her hair practically glow. I pause in the doorway, her maid curtsies and scurries down the hall, looking over her shoulder at me. I see Claire unobtrusively wipe her hands on her skirt, so I know she is at least as nervous as I am, and for some reason that gives me confidence.

"Claire," I incline my head to her, and bow a little, keeping my countenance light. She is beautiful, and I don't think she knows it, which makes her all the more attractive. In that, she reminds me of Fae. I push the unwilling visual of Fae from my mind, tucking it back. Now is not the time. Really no time will ever be the time.

"Prince Calix," she smiles and curtsies in return.

Taking a deep breath, I offer her my arm, and she takes it in her hand. I'm glad I ditched the suit jacket I was wearing this morning. Her light touch on my elbow is comforting and warm. I didn't realize how much I missed being touched, even in something as simple as this. As she closes her door, I say "Please just call me Calix, at least when we're alone together."

"Okay, Calix." I like the way my name rolls off her tongue. She doesn't blush or even miss a step. She has a quiet, composed demeanor that I envy.

"Thanks for agreeing to join me for lunch. I think this will be nicer than eating with a crowd." I guide her through the palace, heading to the entrance of the gardens and the picnic that I arranged earlier in the day.

"Well," she says drily, "the crowd has certainly thinned since breakfast."

I glance to make sure she's teasing me, and the half smile playing on her lips confirms she is. "Oh. I suppose that is the topic of conversation today?" I am reminding myself that I have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing.

"The Women's Room was rife with discussion." She bumps shoulders with me, and it reminds me how tall she is.

"Hm." I lead her to the table set up in the gazebo, and pull out her chair. "I'm not used to the Women's Room being rife with much. If Mom wants time alone to work, she heads to her study."

She sits, still smiling, "Well, I think the remaining twenty of us are livening it up a bit."

I take my seat and lean forward a little, looking into her blue-green eyes, "So, what's the scoop? What's everyone saying about me?"

"Besides that you have something against brunettes?" She raises an eyebrow.

I clear my throat and can feel myself blushing a little, "Hopefully?"

"I would never forgive myself if I told the secrets of the Women's Room," she laughs lightly, and places her napkin in her lap. And, something tells me I won't be successful with this line of questioning.

"Point taken. May I?" I gesture towards the food. She assents and I fill her plate with a variety of dishes and set it before her before I fill my own. As we begin to eat, I ask, "Well, since you won't tell me the gossip from the Women's Room, how about telling me more about yourself? You're from Likely?"

She puts one finger in front of herself as she finishes chewing, and then, responds, "That was not the question I was expecting. I don't know why?" I grin back at her, and wait for her to answer. Her eyes are sparkling in the daylight.

And I try to remember what they remind me of…Fae's always remind me of jewels. That dark blue-purple. I hear Claire's voice like an echo, as she shares that she's the only daughter of a province administrator. I can't stop the flashback. The morning after our first night together, Fae slept curled into my shoulder. I woke early and kept still, just watching her sleep. She was so different from the other women I had spent time with, like she didn't even care that I would be king. Her eyes opened, and I was watching her. She had grinned and pulled me in closer, before teasing, "You know that's creepy, right Cal? Waking up to those gorgeous brown eyes staring down at me." And I'd never felt so completely someone else's and still myself. I could be just Cal.

"Cal?" Claire questions, "Are you all right?" She is standing now, a hand on my arm.

Something about her stance or the way she uses my nickname makes me gasp for air. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I am panicking and tripping over my own feet as I stand. "The guards will show you in. I—" I look back at her confused expression as I stumble in to the palace, trying to find my footing.

The guard moves to steady me, but I wave him away. "Thanks, Officer Cameron. Please, show the lady back to her room. And ask for her discretion." I don't stop for his reply. My only thought is that I have to make it back to my room before I pass out.

…...

After a sharp rap at the door, Ethan enters without fanfare. I expect him to make some sort of joke but instead he asks his question in a barely audible voice. "What happened?"

I flip on my bed from my stomach to my back, an arm thrown over my face so I don't have to look at him. "Mom sent you?"

"No, I came because I actually care about you, you ass." I hear him throw himself into my desk chair. "I'm wondering why myself."

That sounds like the Ethan I am familiar with, "Nice of you to show up, I guess."

"Come on, Cal. Don't give me that crap. You almost passed out in the gardens during lunch. You skipped all your meetings this afternoon and are well on your way to missing dinner. Your family is worried. And, just so you know, you don't look deathly ill. What gives?"

I don't want to put words to how I am feeling; verbalizing everything going through my mind would make it real. I don't want to make it real.

"You were eating with Claire," he prompts me.

I prop myself up on my elbows. "I looked at her eyes."

"Oh." He runs his hand over his face and sighs. "And that caused a full panic attack?"

"I thought I could do this, Ethan. I _need_ to do this."

He sighs again, "What I don't get, Cal is how this experience is any different than college?"

I look at him, "For one, I am not taking in nearly the same amount of alcohol. Secondly, I am around my entire family. And, I met Fae. It sounds absolutely ridiculous and I don't even want to say it out loud. So, please take pity and don't make me."

"No. I get it," he reassures me. And I believe him. "But, this is your choice. Inheriting the crown. Choosing a wife through the Selection. More than that, it's your responsibility. You said it's over with Fae. You have to let her go. I thought you were past this."

"I'm not as strong as I thought I was," I confess quietly.

"As long as I've known you, you've underestimated yourself. There are twenty women who will do anything to help you forget her. Take the opportunity."

I just nod. I know he's right, but around every corner is another reminder of Fae. She made me a better version of myself. And, I'm so off-center without her. How can I be fair to anyone else when so much of my heart is still hers?

"You have an hour before dinner, which you will attend. Take a shower. Put on a clean suit. Forget her. I will be back."

Forty-five minutes later, Ethan arrives as promised. He is bearing two highball glasses each a quarter of the way full with honey brown liquid. I silently raise my glass to him, and then down the drink in two swallows. It burns and warms my throat, and the aftertaste is sweet but not cloying. Dinner is surprisingly uneventful. The women that are left talk quietly with each other as they eat. And the family pretends I haven't spent the whole day hiding in my room. I sit in between Dad and Mom, and they confirm for themselves that I have complete control over my composure again.

As the rest of the family stands to leave, Dad leans to me and says, "Maybe you're in the mood for a movie tonight?"

I consider, and remember how Viviana had me laughing this morning. A trip to the theater seems like it may be too tame for her, but I don't really want to spend the evening alone. And, I also take the hint. Dad is telling me to dive right back in. So, I take a deep breath and do just that.

"Miss Soledad," I begin, as I match pace with Viviana in the hallway. I notice some of the other women pretending not to notice me addressing her.

'"Yes, Prince Calix?" Viviana's smile reaches her eyes and beyond as she takes my offered elbow. She always sounds like she is close to full-out laughter.

"Would you like to join me for movie?"

She is laughing now as she responds, "Well, I was planning a full evening of reading and possibly sulking by myself. But if you insist."

"Oh, I do. And you can even pick the movie." I enjoy the banter, and hope she keeps up her share and mine over the course of the evening.

"The movie doesn't matter," she insists. "The most important question is will there be copious amounts of popcorn? And will you teach me how to make it?"

"I can answer yes to both questions, but why would you want to learn how to make it?" I guide her into the palace theater and to the counter where the popcorn popper and supplies are kept.

She rolls her eyes at me, "Really? You don't think this would be an amazing story to share with my family? My grandkids will be extremely tired of hearing about it, I can promise you."

"So you don't think you'll win?"

"I have no expectations. One of my patients dared me to fill out the application one night on third shift, and if I did they would quit fighting their required blood draw. And, here I am, making popcorn with the prince."

I just grin as we sort the supplies, taking Ethan's advice and pushing the thoughts of Fae from the forefront of my mind. Fae and I had movie marathons every weekend. I did the popcorn; she melted the butter and added the salt. But, my composure didn't falter this time.

The memories might come, but eventually they will fade. Maybe the lessons I learned with Fae will help me to love one of these women even more.

…..

**Thanks for keeping up with the story and reviewing/favoriting/following. :) Next up—I wonder what the family thinks of the women? -SJ**

**azure blue espeon: Thanks for the question about Cal. Since he is still a little touchy, and is pushing himself through the beginning of the Selection, I wonder if he is going to have an honest conversation with himself or not? And, I wonder if he is going to rely on the skill set that he used in college or be the guy we all liked when he was with Fae? :) I appreciate your thoughts. CH 13 was actually pretty difficult for me to write, and I'm not sure I nailed it.**

**Username1096: Thanks so much—I really struggled with the last chapter, so I am glad you enjoyed it. What did you think of Claire and Viviana in this one? :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Viviana is sassy. Do you think it's because she's a little older? What did you think of her in this chapter? I personally want to give Cal a kick in the pants. Come on, Cal. Get it together! ;) **

**Guest: I know. Hard to believe.**

**AcademicGirl: I do that whole waking up thing with socks. If I forget to take them off, it's ugly. Vara is a difficult lady to love, but I anticipate more of her in the book. And, really no one should call twins "The Twins." How amazingly annoying! I'm glad you liked the last chapter, because it was not pretty writing it. And, truth, I don't think it will ever be where I want it… So, yeah. And, no need to apologize! Long reviews are fun to read. :) **

**Jthornestudent: Awww, thanks. Viviana is quite the character. I think she'll be good for Cal to interact with. :)**

**dolly123: Yes, Cal's jerkiness rears its ugly head, doesn't it? He can be totally insufferable. :) I know the overall Selection moves, and I am trying to write to get to them. ;) I am so excited to actually get it down!**

**luv2read4reading: Got it!**

**Selection Fan: Thanks! Trying to keep it good… :)**

**Guest: So noted. Thanks for reading! :)**

…

And, for the bracket…. Gale by a landslide.

Next up: **Aspen** (The Selection) VS **Mal** (Grisha Series)


	15. Chapter 15

**Surprise! A mid-week update. And it's over 3,000 words long! Do I have a project to finish. Obviously! Happy reading!-SJ :)**

...

I rub my temples as I look around the table. More talk of candidates and their merit. More meaningless polls from Stephen. The more we do this same song and dance, the more I am flat-out amazed my brain doesn't simply explode from the insanity of it all.

Head of Parliament Asa Sutton assures us all will go smoothly with the elections. And, I'm sure it will. We narrowed the candidates. However, I am successful in one thing. Dad speaks up, "I agree with Prince Calix. It would be a mistake to back one individual over another in the election. If we truly want to allow choice, the monarchy cannot mention a preference. And that means that some of the leaders may be less prepared. And some provinces may suffer some growing pains for their choices. But they also could surprise us."

Score one for me. Mom shoots me a satisfied look, and a barely perceptible wink.

Sutton's mouth drops open briefly, but he soon sets his face in a smooth mask of calm. "As you wish, your majesties." He almost sneers, but not quite. I am impressed he can keep his tone neutral. He is certainly practiced. "Next on the agenda is the progress of the Selection."

I think he enjoys the momentary cringe. The women have only been here two days, and apparently it has caught the imagination of the world. Stephen looks like he is chomping at the bit to share. If he is going to take over for Gavril, the poor guy will need to calm down. His knee looks like it is going to shake his leg apart. I maintain my unruffled attitude. Dad nods to Stephen and gives me a pointed look. I get his meaning. He supported me, and I will keep my patience with Stephen. _Keep it together_. Eventually, I will stop repeating that to myself, and actually feel composed.

Stephen hands us all a sheet of statistics, and we take a second to read through. I catch Mom sneaking a glance at me as she pretends to review the information. I manage a half-smile. "As you can see, public opinion shows support for the Selection of Prince Calix." He refers to his sheet. "Positive support is higher with citizens over thirty-five, who believe it is better for the country if the future king marries soon. Women ages 16-25 are particularly following the media information about the Selection, and are planning their schedules on Fridays around viewing _The Report_." He smiles, "And the reaction to your recent elimination is positive. They believe it shows that you will be a decisive and strong leader."

I refuse to sigh. My inability to spend time with a brunette translates to strength? If they saw me hyperventilating in a dark room hours ago, I think they wouldn't agree.

"People are beginning to develop favorites, and are looking forward to learning more about the women. Before there are more cuts, we should do the photo shoot introducing the remaining women to the rest of the county."

There he is, a step ahead of himself again. "I understand people are interested and want to meet the candidates, but I have barely met them myself. And, I cannot guarantee there won't be more cuts. The public doesn't get to make this decision." I take care to keep my voice neutral. "Instead of a magazine spread, perhaps we could allow more filming? Maybe each woman could introduce herself in a one-minute spot, and we could release those over the course of a week. If someone is eliminated, we can just stop running or not release her spot."

Everyone around the table is nodding. Aunt Marlee and Mom look especially interested in the idea, and begin to beam at each other. Vara will have her work cut out for her this week, and it will keep Stephen busy, too. That is a double win, as far as I am concerned.

I take control. "So, this week, teams will work to help the women film and edit. And the week after, we will be running the spots all the way up to the _The Report_. Maybe we even continue to run them throughout the competition. Stephen, you can make sure all spots can be shot and ready to run within seven days?"

"Um," Stephen swallows. And his continual leg jiggling finally pauses. "Give me twelve days, your majesty, and they will not only be done, but they will be good quality. We can finish in seven, but the work will be sloppy."

I have effectively moved the Selection as a project from Sutton and Stephen's hands and into my own. Where it belongs. Dad's face says he approves. "Okay, twelve days. But, I want to review all the film before it is released."

Stephen nods but also smiles. He begins to move his leg again, because he can't wait to get started. Mom speaks up, "Lady Marlee, as soon as we finish, please set up a meeting with Vara and Stephen to explain task expectations."

"Of course," responds Aunt Marlee as she marks something down on her legal pad.

The meeting continues for another hour, but I am only half-listening. Mom is working to re-tool a facet of the education system. Dad's birthday celebration is the next big palace event, and the logistics aren't that interesting. What will be interesting is seeing the family interact with all the extra house guests along with local and Illean dignitaries. Because of the International Summit in October, we are keeping the festivities contained. Frankly, Dad would be happy with a nice dinner followed by a rich chocolate cake. I decide unless someone makes an egregious error or misstep, that I won't make another elimination until after the party.

As everyone stands to leave, I do the same. Dad motions me aside, "Prince Calix, I have a quick question if you have a minute?"

"Of course," I reply, and move further into the room to stand beside my father.

Dad waits until everyone is out of the room and asks, "So how was the movie last night?"

I thought it might be something to do with the Selection, although I am glad he didn't ask during the meeting. "It was fun; though, she seemed more interested in the snacks then the film."

"I once knew a girl who wanted to stay for the food," laughed Dad. "So I married her." He is obviously feeling nostalgic.

"Dad, please," I roll my eyes. We've heard the stories hundreds if not thousands of times. But he still loves to tell the joke.

"Humor your old man," Dad insists. "My Selection wasn't easy, but it wasn't horrific either. I'm just glad you're better. You are better?" I nod and he takes that as a sufficient answer. "Now, go call your sister. She called right before the meeting, and I told her you would."

"Right, of course." I turn to go, but pause. "Thanks."

He smiles, but waves me out, and turns to the stack of work on his desk. I don't think the pile ever disappears. The directives may change, but the intensity of this calling never does.

That's what I am left thinking about as I enter my own study, skirt the project folders on my own desk, and dial Brie's number. She finally picks up, "Hey, Sis. Dad said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Well, hello to you, too, Cal."

"Okay, Brie. How are you doing?" I tap a pencil on my desk and make an attempt to take a look at my agenda for the rest of the week. Somewhere in between the budget and strategy meetings, I need to make sure I make time for the Selected. And though the elections look like they are handled, I need to work on helping Dad understand the pre-Illean history. I realize I am zoning out.

"Hello? Cal, are you still there?"

"Yep. Just got distracted. Sorry, I have a lot more to think about over the last couple of days."

"But less than you did," she teases.

"News travels fast."

"And apparently, you work faster. Fifteen gone in one morning, Cal. And all brunettes? Something tells me that's not a coincidence."

"What are you up to, Brie?"

"Art and soaking in the culture of the art, big brother. Rumor has it I'm rather good at painting and sculpting. Well, when I'm not working with Auntie Nic."

"Calling to gloat?" I keep my voice light so that she knows I'm still kidding with her.

"I think you know why I'm calling. Still on the straight and narrow then?"

"Yes, dear sister. I even have met a few women that you might just approve of, and had a very enjoyable time popping popcorn and watching a meaningless movie last night. And, just so you don't think any less of me, it's not all the brunettes. There's one still left."

"And she had popcorn and a movie with you last night? Good to know. I won't be able to come back for Dad's party. Which is unfortunate because I would love to meet the crowd."

"I see."

"But, I will be attending the International Summit in October. Make sure only the good ones are left by then."

I can only chuckle, which is her intent. "Right. I'll work on that for you."

"I'm sure you will." She pauses and then adds, "I miss you, Cal."

Since she gets more serious, so do I. "I miss you, too, Brie. Talk to you soon."

….

I perch on the bench at the end of my bed, trying to decide whether to go and seek out company or head to the training room. I've gone lighter on my personal work outs and heavier on the food lately, so I trade my dress clothes for a t-shirt and workout shorts. A quick look at the clock tells me that I will probably be alone. It's after nine, and with dinner over, everyone will be settling in for the night except for the guards. I push my feet into tennis shoes, and briefly consider getting Ethan to spar with me. But, he has pastry pick up in the morning. I make a mental note to ask about Beth and not allow him to weasel out of an answer this time.

I nod to the guards on my route, and jog down the back stairs. My heart begins to pump, and I am looking forward to exerting myself. I am so tired of being the mopey unpredictable person I've been, and it has been hard to shake. It's like I've been on autopilot for the last few months, watching my life happen and not fully participating in it. Every person I've talked to is right. It's time to move on and take up my responsibility. I've been raised to this, and four months with someone I deeply love is still only four months. I'll look back on that time with Fae and think of it as nothing more than a bittersweet memory. I'll probably even laugh at my childishness. But over the next few months, I will be tying myself and my hopes and my plans to a woman who is more than an abstraction. _Keep it together_.

I enter the training room through the guard changing area, and see an athletic, feminine frame using a treadmill. She is running steadily, and the sweat soaking her shirt and tendrils from her ponytail show she has been for more than just a few minutes. A guard enters the room to approach her, and I wave him off. I don't need privacy to run a few miles. Plus I wouldn't mind a chance to talk to Charlie. I had almost forgotten she'd been given permission to use the guard training room to keep in competitive shape.

"Prince," she puffs, as she notices my arrival.

"Please, it's Calix," I remind her. "And keep running. I'd hate to wreck your time."

She just nods in reply, and I adjust my machine and begin to jog. She begins to slack off her pace, and I hope it's because she intended to and not because I am in the room. But, either way, I am glad of her company. Soon, we are matching pace. I'm working enough to sweat, but not hard enough to be unable to speak. She looks like she's strolling through the gardens.

"Do you like to run late in the evening?" I ask, starting the conversation. Even dripping with sweat, she's beautiful. I try and keep from staring. I don't want her to get the wrong idea about me. I think about that for a second. What does she think about me? All she's seen is me eliminate fifteen of her compatriots because of their hair color. I blink hard to clear the thought from my head.

"Well, they told me it's usually empty," she laughs. "Thanks for not kicking me out."

"Maybe I should have," I joke. "You're making me look bad."

She glances to the side, "I don't think you can do that. Haven't you been in training since you were a small boy?"

I take the compliment. Maybe I'm not getting as soft around the middle as I feel. "I started defensive tactics when the attacks on the palace restarted when I was nine. And, all through secondary grades, I trained with the guard."

"That's not easy training. My uncle was in the service when he was younger, and I know how hard they work. Skiing down a hill is simple in comparison."

"When did you start skiing?"

"I don't even remember," she admits. "My parents had me on skis practically as I learned to walk. My family were Fours before the castes were dissolved. And my parents didn't want me to feel locked in to being a storekeeper. They both love to ski, and it just so happens my natural abilities lent themselves to skiing. And not so much to tending a cash register and inventorying stock."

I grin back, glancing toward her and concentrating so as not to lose my footing, "Oh, I'm sure you can count change."

"You would think. Apparently, I'm much better at geometry than simple addition."

I laugh out loud. Did she just tell a math joke? About slope? Nothing about this woman reminds me of Fae. And I am so glad. "Clever," I comment.

She shrugs and slows her pace even more. "There's my time. And, if I want to be on time for breakfast—" She motions toward the door and slows to a walk.

I immediately drop to a walk, as well. "Let me escort you back?"

"Okay." She turns off her machine and grabs a towel. Instead of wrapping it around her neck, she wipes down her machine. Then tosses it in the bin and grabs one for her face. I do the same. I don't know why her cleaning the treadmill impresses me, but it does. She doesn't expect anyone to clean up after her when she can do it herself.

In an exaggerated movement, I offer her my arm. She smiles even wider as she takes it. "Are you sure? I'm still dripping."

"Of course. We can drip together."

On the way back to her room, she tells me more about the grocery her family runs. And I can tell her family is important to her, though she only has one sister. She is surrounded by aunts and uncles and cousins. Much like I am.

"Here's my stop," she says, standing in front of her door. "Thanks for running with me."

"Maybe next time, instead of the treadmills, we can take the trail in the woods?"

She nods, and then drops her eyes, suddenly shy, "I think I would like that. Sometimes treadmills-"

"Seem so useless? You're running, but you're not getting any place new?"

"Exactly." She smiles up at me, and I take her delicate but powerful hand in mine, then press a kiss into her palm. A blush spreads over her cheeks.

I take a step back, "Thank you for the best run I've had in a while. We'll do it again soon." And I know I'm not making a flippant promise. "Good night, Charlie. Sleep well."

"Good night," she hesitates. "Good night, Calix." I squeeze her hand one last time as I turn from her and walk down the hallway.

There's a lightness in my step that I have been missing. I'm glad it's back.

...

**So, maybe Cal's attitude isn't so insufferable now? Let me know what you think and thanks so much for reading and reviewing! XOXO-SJ**

**username1096: I know. Cal's been a little unpredictable lately. I don't blame you. I'm glad you liked the last chapter. What do you think about this one?**

**AcademicGirl: Thanks for the Fae catch! Can't believe I did that. And, oh, I know. Come one, Cal. Get it together. I like Viviana, too. And hope you enjoy something to read early in the morning. (I was much funnier the last time I wrote comments...but the site at them...)**

**jthornestudent: I am so glad you like this chapter! Thanks for reading. I love Viviana, too. :)**

**azure blue espeon: I know what you meant. It felt like Cal was slogging through his first two days, and it was painful for all of us. Maybe his attitude is better now? What do you think of CH 15? :)**

**Devil Wears Westwood: Yeah, it would be good for Cal to get it together. I hope he can! (He's more fun to write when he isn't moping!) What do you think of Charlie?**

...

Going to leave the bracket: **ASPEN** (The Selection) vs **MAL** (Grisha) for one more comment cycle... :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello, Everyone…Thanks for hanging out and reading as I update sporadically. I appreciate it! SJ :)**

...

Seven days pass as if I am standing still, even though I am running to catch up. All the provincial mayors are invited to Dad's birthday celebration. And in the seven provinces with elections, both candidates are invited. Parliament and local and Illean dignitaries, including members of Dad's Selection, will also be in attendance. I only have an additional week to prepare. I am thinking through what I need to do after I meet with Stephen as I turn a corner sharply and plow into a much smaller figure.

"Oh!" Ana squeals. "Oh, how silly of me! I am so sorry Prince Calix." She smiles as I extend her a hand and help her from the floor.

"No apologies, of course. It was my fault," I admonish her. "Finishing your taping for the spot?"

She takes my hand and allows me to place her gently back on her feet that are balancing in some complicated-looking high-heeled shoes. She encases my hand in both of hers before she answers, "Oh, yes. What a wonderful time I've had! Was it your idea to do the spots? It's been keeping us all so busy this past week!"

I'm proud as I answer, "Yes, Illea wants to know the Selected. And frankly, so do I. I thought this would be a great way to accomplish both goals."

"I just knew it had to be your idea," she grins, swing my hand in hers. Her touch is just strong enough not to be annoying. Yet her hands are warm and gentle. And from having a sister and mother who care less about their nails than their maids think they should, I can tell they are perfectly manicured. So I deduce she cares about her appearance. I glance at her, red hair falling in carefully arranged curls down her back, brilliant blue dress fitting in the right places without being indecent. She sees me look, and begins to draw circles on the back of my hand. "Do you have a busy morning, Prince?"

I can tell she tries to sound innocent, but she's fishing a little. It's amusing, and not entirely unwanted. "I'm afraid so, Ana." Over the last week, I managed to see each of the Selected, if only for a half hour. And it's refreshing that she isn't shy or nervous around me. Her nonchalance is welcome, and her interest is flattering. "And, my schedule for the afternoon is already full. But, maybe this evening you'd like to walk in the gardens? I'll send a note when I'm free."

Her smile widens, as she squeezes my hand, "I really would like that. Don't let it be too late." Her voice takes on an almost-sultry tone. But, I think I must be mistaken. As everything I have already seen of Ana exudes sweet, from her wide brown eyes to the freckles sprinkled across her nose. She adds, "You work too hard already."

"Hmm. I don't think that's possible, what with the example my father sets. And speaking of, my dear, I do need to see Stephen. He's in the studio, I presume?" She nods, and I retrieve my and from her grasp. "I apologize again for bowling you over, but I must be going. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Of course! There are a couple of other girls with him, but I think they are finishing up. Especially since I'll be seeing you later. Don't worry about me, I'll find my way back to the Women's Room with no problem."

"Thank you, again." I watch her as she begins to walk in the opposite direction before shaking my head and continuing on my way.

I stand outside the door to the studio before entering, listening for Stephen's voice. Instead, I hear two distinctly female voices, joined together in muted laughter.

"Well, she told me that one of the questions is 'What would you look forward to if you were chosen as Queen?" says one.

Her friend giggles, and answers flippantly, "My real answer or the one I'm having taped? Oh, my lord, my servants would have servants if I'm the queen. My mother told me that in her day, each of the Selected had three maids. But, we only have one. I'd make sure that changed really quickly! I don't plan on lifting a finger!"

"You aren't kidding," the first voice replies. "And one would be a certified massage therapist. My back would never hurt again."

"I'll never open another _anything_ as long as I live."

Their disrespect needles me, and I can't resist opening the door. They stand and curtsy, but their faces are pale. "If this is what you think it means to be royalty, I think I am glad you will never find out. Our job is to serve our people, not ourselves. Please return to your rooms and pack your things."

They turn to leave, and one mutters to the other, "Serve? He doesn't even serve himself lunch," and the door slams shut behind them.

Stephen comes in from the other direction and stops short, "Where are the girls?"

"They left," I answered, not hiding my displeasure.

He's confused as he asks, "When will they be back? We're on a tight time schedule here."

"They won't," I respond shortly, turning to the door myself. "Looks like you have time for lunch today." I stalk from the room, forgetting why I came downstairs in the first place.

…

I see the mayoral candidate from Clermont making his way purposely across the ballroom. He is making a beeline for me, and I look around for an escape. Charlie is standing about thirty feet directly to my right walking toward a refreshment table, and the band is returning from its break. I speed walk to her side. I am so tired of the candidates, though I have spent a good portion of my evening accepting refills of my wine and engaging in mind-numbing small talk. All are pressing for endorsements, which I stubbornly refuse to give. A quick glance around the room shows me that Dad, Mom, and Asa Sutton, are currently cornered by their own petitioners.

I bow to Charlie, "May I have this dance?"

She sees the man speeding up to us stop short, and turn on his heel. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that his mission is thwarted by my action. She stifles her laughter, and answers, "Of course, Prince Calix. I would be honored."

I lead her to the dance floor, "Have you been enjoying your evening, Charlie?"

"So far," she responds, allowing me to lead her in the dance. "Maybe even more now."

"Well, my night is definitely looking up," I answer her smile with my own. "Sometimes, politics is overrated," I confess.

She nods to my parents and the crowd surrounding them, "How did you manage to extricate yourself from the last conversation?"

"Oh, I have my father to thank. He reminded me not to neglect the Selected this evening, and it signaled the leeches to back off." As we turn across the floor, "I think Vara is going apoplectic, though. The candidates should be dancing and not so obviously jockeying for favor. I'm sure she is horrified."

She laughs softly again, "I did have the pleasure of dancing with the Mayor of Dakota. Oh, and with Griffin and Barrett. So I haven't been totally ignored. Griffin seems especially interested in my skiing; I've run in to him a few times in the training room."

"And what do you think of my brothers?" I ask curious about her answer.

"They are very different people, but they do have one thing in common."

"And that is?"

She shakes her head and raises an eyebrow at me as if she can't believe she has to say her next statement. "They both worship their older brother, Prince Calix. It's nice to see. My older sister and I fight like cats and dogs, though if I am totally honest, it's because I wish I could be more like her. Ava is my personal hero. It's a kid sister thing. I'm sure it's a kid brother thing, too."

I think on those words, trying to decide how I feel about them. A slow smile takes over my face, "I guess it's a good thing I think they are pretty wonderful. I'm glad your evening hasn't been a total bust. But I must apologize, because once this dance is over, you will have requests from some of the most boring people on the planet. Political candidates."

"Prince Calix, I think I can handle it. Parties from my sponsors are very similar. And, I bet sport sponsors are at least as equally as boring as would-be mayors."

I grin and concede, "Possible." I can tell the song is winding down as I ask, "So, would you like to run on a real path in the morning, instead of the treadmill to nowhere?"

"Of course. I would like that. But will you be awake in time to run before breakfast?"

"Remember, we're having more of a brunch tomorrow. Due to the party. If I'm not up in time to run before brunch, rest assured Mom will be reading me the riot act." I lean forward like I am telling her a secret, "Because that means I was intoxicated at a public function. A big 'no-no' in this house."

She laughs again. I do like to hear her laugh. "Okay. Okay. I'll meet you in the training room?"

"How does 8:30 AM sound?" I ask as I guide her back to the refreshment table, and pick up a full glass of wine from a near-by waiter.

"Perfect. If you don't show up, you're dooming me to the treadmill."

I feign shock, "My lady, I would never. But, I do have to be hospitable to all my guests. If you'll excuse me?" She nods, and I incline my head to her, and prepare to find my next ally against the candidates. "Until tomorrow, Charlie." I turn from her, sipping my wine and scanning the room as I walk.

It doesn't take me long to spot Claire, out on the patio engaged in an animated conversation with Kort. I am surprised for two reasons. One, Kort usually disappears quickly from State functions. Even though he is twelve and allowed to stay, he often leaves with Tyrmian under the guise of keeping our youngest brother company. Actually, he gets just as bored at Tyr does and by leaving early, he gets a chance to read for that much longer before bed. Two, Kort rarely talks to strangers. He isn't shy, exactly, just reserved. And he looks neither as he talks to Claire.

I nod and smile as I cross to the garden doors, managing to disengage myself from two representatives of Parliament, draining my glass and grabbing another on my way. I lean on the door frame behind them, smiling to myself as I realize they are not yet aware of my presence.

Claire is insisting that Kort should expand on his reading list. I almost snort my drink through my nose as I hear her say, "You really should read Shakespeare, Kort. Every theme used in literature is in Shakespeare." I remember that Claire is a former English major. What is up with English majors and their displaced love of Shakespeare and his thematic choices?

I speak up, "For Pete's sake, Claire. He's twelve. He likes pirates." I make sure my tone is teasing, because I don't want to hurt their feelings.

They both look over their shoulders as me, and Kort turns back to Claire and smiles sheepishly as he nods in agreement to my comment. "I do like pirates best."

Claire continues, "Then you must read Mark Twain. Because I think you'd love Tom Sawyer."

Out of the depths of my introductory courses in college, I pull out the Mark Twain reference and dust it off. A twelve year old, reading 19th century American authors? "Claire?"

"Oh, you two! I loved Tom Sawyer when I was Kort's age and he is much smarter than I ever was. He won't have any trouble." She turns to my little brother and says, "Meet me in the library tomorrow after lunch. I will help you pick some new books. I bet you'll find some new favorites!"

Kort blushes a little, but readily agrees. Then he looks from Claire to me and back again. I gesture to him, and Claire either doesn't notice or pretends not to. He excuses himself, and I pat him on the back as he leaves, bright-eyed and head held high. Talking to pretty girls always gives me confidence, too. I take the seat once occupied by my little brother. "I think that one has a little crush on you, be careful. I'd hate for you to break his heart." My tone is still teasing, and she smiles as she meets my eyes. I don't add that his big brother does, too. Since the afternoon of my panic attack, I have been making time to see Claire as much as I can. I am drawn to her, though sometimes my memories of Fae surface most when I am with her.

"He just reminds me a lot of myself when I was his age," she explains. "And I am an only child, so it's nice to pass on all my knowledge to someone."

I place my now-empty glass on the ground next to the bench, and angle my body toward Claire. Her dress is a deep purple, and it accents her eyes. Her white-blonde hair is piled on top of her head, and tendrils are escaping to frame her face. I place my arm on the back of the bench, tantalizingly close to her bare back but not quite touching. "That's right, your father is a province administrator. And your mother…"

"Is an English teacher," she finishes, laughing a little and cocking her head. "I think that may be a little obvious. Isn't it?" She turns toward me, and places her hand on mine. It warms my whole body to see her delicate fingers there on mine.

I joke back, "No, not at all. How did you get him to open up to you?"

"Well, Vara was very perplexed that the Selected were not dancing. And, I think she made Kort ask me," she confesses. "But I am glad she did, because we abandoned the dance once we realized we both like to read best of all."

I try not to laugh too hard. "Vara is dismayed that the politicians are playing political games tonight, I think. I'm just glad I have a satisfactory excuse not to play them." I go quiet again, not able to tear my gaze from her face. I'm hyperaware of her fingers, still on mine. She flushes under my stare, but doesn't look away. I gather her hands in mine, and move closer. My heartbeat is accelerating my blood through my veins and I feel almost lightheaded as I bring my lips to hers. Her lips are soft and sweet beneath mine, and I restrain myself from pulling her to me and settle for the fact that she is kissing me back.

I stop and lean my forehead against hers. My voice is husky as I whisper, "I hope I wasn't too forward."

"Of course not," she breathes back. "I wondered what kissing you would be like."

"And?"

"And I wasn't disappointed," she says shyly, lowering her eyes. Her lashes make a dark shadow on her cheeks, and I gently move her face to mine again. This time when we part, she stands.

"Are you okay?" I am a little surprised, as this kiss was more heated than the last. I could stay here for the rest of the evening.

Her cheeks are red, and the flush extends to her shoulders, and the skin exposed above the bodice of her dress. "I think I need to go," she whispers.

"May I walk you back to your room?" I stand, not wanting her to leave, but respecting her space.

She looks uneasy, and bites her bottom lip a little. "I want you to," she finally replies, "but I don't think that is the best idea."

I understand her insinuation. And she is probably right. "If that's what you'd like," I reassure her with a smile.

She simply nods and curtsies and then re-enters the ballroom. I watch her leave from the patio, and try to calm my breathing. The only other woman to make my heart race like that during a kiss is halfway around the world.

...

**Thanks for waiting and reading! Hope it was worth the wait. :) Life over the last two weeks got very crazy, but writing is always a constant. Let me know what you think! As always, I appreciate you. XOXO—SJ**

**prnamber3909: Good question. Who knows? What do you think?**

**azure blue espeon: Thanks—I thought CH 15 turned out better than the last couple. But, I have to admit, I like CH 16, too. (For totally different reasons.) I haven't decided about the spots yet… good idea, though. Hope you enjoyed CH 16! :)**

**AcademicGirl: Yes, our dear Calix is quite awkward. And his cuteness and earnestness make up for it. Right? Right. And, you have to make time to read the Grisha series. It is really good. And sufficiently dark. And I didn't guess the main plot twist! So, that was something… :) So, if CH 15 was cute, what was CH 16? :) Thanks for reading… **

**dolly123: Glad you liked it. Beth and Ethan are coming, I promise. Next chapter… It was supposed to be in this chapter, but I am actually splitting them because it was getting too long. :) I like how Cal is coming into his own, too. What do you think of CH 16? :)**

**soccerlurve: Of course MAXON is still first. Always, right? :) Here's your next update. "Lurve ya," too. Hope CH 16 is "amazinger" enough for you! ;)**

**jthornestudent: I'm so glad you liked it. Charlie is fun to write. Hope you liked this chapter, too. Happy reading!**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Awww, you're afraid to ship in this story? Ship away, but Calix is unpredictable, as we all know. :) And regarding story idea, you'll have to wait and see what I have in store. The outline is done for the whole story, just the chapters aren't actually written yet. PM me. :) And, it's Sunday (well actually, Monday) so where is the epilogue? (Peer pressure... :)**

**Username1096: Aww, thank you so much. That's really sweet. I'm glad you like the chapter. Beth and Ethan are coming in the next chapter. This chapter got so long that I split it into two… Hope you like it! :)**

…

Bracket winner: **ASPEN**

So, we've narrowed down the bracket. We're going to go up, this time. And we have **Gale **(Hunger Games) **vs Aspen** (The Selection). Hmmm, I'm not sure who I'd pick?


	17. Chapter 17

**So, the updates are coming only once a week, BUT the word count is longer. Does that make up for it? I hope so. Thank you so much for reading! :) SJ**

…...

Claire doesn't just leave the patio; she continues walking until the guards open the ballroom door for her and she disappears into the hallway. My pulse is still sprinting, keeping pace with my breathing. _Calm down, _I tell myself. _She's just a girl_. A beautiful girl. A beautiful girl that can bring my little brother out of his shell. I cross my arms across my chest, restraining my impulse to go after her. She is afraid to keep kissing me tonight. A small smile plays on my mouth. Maybe she should be, because I know neither one of us really wanted to stop. She obviously possesses more self-restraint than me. I bend to get my empty glass from the ground, and decide that I better return to the party. My absence would be noted at least by Mom and Vara, if not by the others. And as much as I don't want probing questions from my mother, I dread a lecture from Vara more.

I circle the bench and run directly into Ana again. I really have to be more careful, as knocking into her has become my unintentional modus operandi before any interaction with the delicate woman. "Ana, really if you see me coming, you need to start taking one giant step backward and to the left. And, maybe make a noise before I run you down?" I try not to laugh, as the startled look on her face is probably enough of a reprimand. I wonder if she saw me with Claire, and consider asking her to wear a bell. She just seems to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. And honestly, I'm afraid I will hurt her accidentally if I mow her down one more time.

She holds out two glasses, "I thought you looked thirsty, Prince Calix." Her voice is quiet and gentle, and even soothing. "Would you like to share a drink with me?" She doesn't seem rattled at all, and somehow, she managed to keep the deep red of the wine off of her cream-colored floor-length dress.

"How thoughtful, Ana," I smile into her brown eyes. "Your plan keeps me from having to re-enter the room and dodge each of the mayoral obstacles between me and the wait staff."

She laughs lightly, "I notice they are keeping you busy this evening. We only had one chance to dance." I take my glass from her, and she brushes her fingertips on the back of my hand.

"I apologize for that. Would you like to dance or walk with me again?" I gesture toward the path. Ana and I have taken a handful of walks here, and while I don't associate the gardens as 'our place,' she makes an amicable companion. I offer her my arm and she takes it as we follow the route that moves us farther from the glow of the ballroom. Accent lights provide pools of illumination throughout the garden, and some of the trees wear twinkle lights that remind me of fireflies that I have seen in other provinces. We walk for a while in silence, and then I ask, "Have you had a nice evening so far, Ana?"

"Oh, yes," she purrs. "Although I would say it has improved markedly in the last five minutes or so." She looks up to catch my eye, and I chuckle a little at the remark. "The palace definitely knows how to throw a birthday party."

"My father might not agree with you," I respond taking another sip of my wine. "He often prefers a smaller affair. But, with the Selection this year, he didn't have a choice."

She protests, "What better way to show his sovereignty than to gather his citizens together for his birthday? It should be a national holiday!"

"Hmm," I intone, not wanting to argue. "Perhaps. But we are alike in that we rather dislike the spectacle of it all. I haven't truly enjoyed my birthday since I was eight years old."

"That is so sad! What happened when you turned nine?" She seems to remember as the words are leaving her mouth, but she already spoke them. "That is so silly of me. I am sorry! Of course. The attack on the palace," she demures, and avoids meeting my eyes.

We stop walking and take a seat on a well-placed bench. "Please, don't apologize. I am glad people are starting to put the memory behind them. Those days were dark ones for Illea, and definitely ones that I choose not to remember." How could I forget? I was huddled in the safe room with all my friends and siblings when Mom was torn from it and triggered the emergency latch. I've never seen Auntie Nic and Aunt Georgia so serious, and Aunt May and Grandmom Magda fought every tear that slid down their cheeks. I will never erase the pictures and emotions from my memory. The darkness of the garden seems to reflect my mood. How did it turn so serious so quickly? And why do I feel compelled to delve into that particular memory right at this moment? I turn to Ana, and she places a small, soft hand on my cheek.

"I am so sorry, Prince Calix. What a horrible thing for such a small boy to witness," she murmurs. And something about the way she is sitting encourages me to lean closer. The air between us seems almost heavy, and she tilts her face up toward mine. I oblige her, and brush my mouth against hers in a chaste kiss.

The spell is broken then, and a soft sheen of sweat breaks out on my forehead. Suddenly, I am too warm. I blink, and realize the edges of my vision are fuzzy and my glass is empty again. Shit. I'm drunk. I'm drunk at a public function and my mother will kill me if anyone else discovers that same fact. I think of Charlie and our run tomorrow, and Claire and the kiss that still affects my pulse. Ana is sweet, but the kiss meant less than nothing to me. I launch myself to my feet, and offer her a hand. A shadow passes her face that I cannot read, and I resist the urge to run from the garden. I will at least escort her back to the party. I offer her may arm again, sweat pooling under my arms and in the small of my back. I rebuff her attempts to make conversation, and deposit her unceremoniously in the ballroom, apologizing as I excuse myself. Then I aim for the ballroom door, taking special care to walk purposefully, but also as if I am unencumbered. I glance toward Mom, and she raises an eyebrow as she talks with Lady Kriss and Lady Elise. She raises her palm and flutters all five fingers at me. She isn't waving, though that's how it would appear. She's telling me the number of drinks she's seen me have. I give her a small salute, and get a terse half-smile in return. As long as I leave, I won't have anything to account for in the morning.

The guards open the door, and I begin to yank at my collar, loosening my tie and shrugging out of my jacket. Then I see Viviana, Ethan, and Beth talking on the first landing of the staircase. I always break out in a sweat when I have too much to drink, leading to removal of clothing. As the doors close behind me, I know Ethan knows. The slow smile that spreads across his face tells me that much. So, I might as well have some fun.

"Ah, Miss Bakersfield. It's so nice to see you again." My smile and sentiment are genuine, as I notice Ethan's arms wrapped around Beth's waist. Well, he cannot deny the morning pastry pick-ups are going well. And the fact that they are heading upstairs is probably a good sign, too. I make sure to hold the railing as I walk to meet them on the landing. Beth begins to break away and curtsy to me. "Please, no formalities. Any friend of Ethan's is a friend of mine." I look pointedly at their posture, "And it looks like you and Ethan are quite friendly again." My voice is probably a bit too bright, but she pretends not to notice. Ethan leans toward her and whispers something in her ear, and that causes a smile to dimple her cheeks.

I turn my attention to Viviana. Her gown, a dark red, skims her figure, ending a little above her knee. In every way, Viviana is wearing the dress; it is not wearing her. "How are you, this evening?" I smile again. I can't really seem to stop smiling, actually. She reaches out to me and takes my arm.

"I think I'll ask you the same question," she answers, leaning heavily into me. Her laughter bubbles up, and it is infectious. Soon, I am laughing, too. I always laugh with Viviana. "I, my dear Prince Calix, am quite well, thank you." Her tone is teasing, but it is good natured.

"I am glad. And my cousin isn't giving you too much trouble?"

"Of course not," she shares a look with Ethan and Beth. She stage-whispers, "But I hear you might get a taste of your own medicine for your prank on these two wonderful people."

I wrap my arm around Viviana's waist, steadying myself with the banister, "Noted. But they wouldn't be able to plot against me if I didn't use all resources available to me to trap them in the same room." I notice Viviana has started to sway a little, and I see that she is holding a bottle of champagne in her other hand.

Ethan prompts me, "Maybe you should walk Viviana back to her room."

I decide that idea is probably a good one. As I pass Ethan, I relieve her of the bottle and hand it to him. As he takes it, I hear him whisper, "I'll get you back." And, I know that he will. Even though he has Beth beside him again, he will find a way to teach me a lesson. He always does.

I guide us to the second floor, and then realize I can't for the life of me remember which room is hers. She giggles quietly at my confusion and takes me by the hand. "It's this way." She stumbles a little, and I support her around the waist again, noticing how she fits perfectly against my side. "Thank you, Calix. I'm afraid I've had a little too much to drink." She opens the door to her room, almost directly at the end of the hallway.

I stand at the entrance of her room, which she hasn't redecorated. She does have pictures along her dressing table. And the white on white color scheme is soothing and inviting and clean all at once. She waves me in, and I enter cautiously, taking a seat on a small chair by the balcony door. I toss my jacket and tie in a small pile beside me, and resist the urge to take off my shoes and untuck my shirt. I'm suddenly nervous. Maybe this isn't the best idea. "Should I call for your maid?" I ask as she kicks off her heels and disappears behind her bathroom door.

I hear her scoff, "I'll be out in a second," she says. "I've been dressing myself for the past twenty years."

I'm still sweating enough to make my back sticky. I stand, and open the balcony doors, aching for the breeze. Undoing a few buttons and rolling up my sleeves gives me a little relief. I'm not quite sure what I'm doing here, but I'm too intoxicated to go back downstairs and I'm too restless to head to bed. And I like spending time with Viviana.

She appears again, wrapped in a lightweight terrycloth robe covering pink cotton pajamas. Her hair is still up, but her face is freshly washed. She tosses me a thick white washcloth. I catch it and discover it is saturated. She laughs at my grimace and soon I am grinning and wiping off my face. "The same thing happens to me with too much red wine," she shares as she climbs up on her bed gracelessly and sits cross-legged in the middle. "I'm sure I'll be totally embarrassed about my forthrightness tomorrow. But now is the time to ask me anything."

I think a minute. She cocks her head to the side, watching me. "Why are you here?"

"Really?" she laughs, "I already told you that. A patient dared me to submit the application, and in exchange he had a blood draw that identified a condition early enough that we could save his life."

"I think you know what I mean. Why did you stay?"

"I'm enjoying my time here, Calix. Although, I am surprised you chose to sit in my chair rather than beside me." She pats the bed and raises an eyebrow, laughing again at my look of surprise. "Everything I've read about you says I shouldn't let you into my room unchaperoned."

I slip off my shoes and stretch out on my left side across the end of her bed, supporting my head on my hand. "Is that better?"

"Much, I don't feel like I'm screaming across the room anymore." Her smile lights up her whole face.

"So, what horrible things have you been believing about me?" I'm still warm from the wine, but not sweating outright anymore. The open balcony doors let the breeze from the night air waft through the room.

"Well, before I got here, I saw a lot of you in the gossip pages. Mostly with tall blondes that look like Charlie and Claire." She's teasing, and her voice and expression stay light. "But, what they left out is that you are so devoted to your family. Your brothers and sister mean the world to you. You want nothing more to please your mother and father."

"How do you know that?" I raise my eyebrows.

"I've watched you at dinner. I've seen you preparing for _The Report_. You can't hide your feelings for your family. Just look at what you did for Ethan and Beth." She taps the end of my nose with her index finger. "And no picture can do those beautiful brown eyes justice." I'm surprised by the jolt of electricity I feel from that small touch. I miss the simplest things.

Our foreheads are almost touching as I admit, "You are the most interesting person I have ever met."

"And you are much more than I imagined," she replies, so quietly I almost have to strain to hear. Her eyes lock with mine, and I can't look away.

"You're not just here to fulfill a dare anymore."

She whispers her "No" against my lips as I cover her mouth with mine, allowing a hand to work into her curly dark hair. She presses her small body against my chest, and wraps her arms around my neck. My other hand rests on her hip, drawing her even closer. She slips her hands to the front of my shirt and unbuttons it quickly, exposing my undershirt and skimming her hands over my biceps as she slides the garment to the floor. Instinctively, I loosen the tie of her robe, and it is so oversized, in one motion it joins my shirt. Her hands move up to my hair as I kiss the sensitive skin in the hollow between her neck and her collar bone. A warning sounds in the back of my head. _We're drunk. She's drunk._ But I ignore it as we both sigh and melt into each other. I try to minimize the distance between us, and pour my attention into kissing her. We both feel more urgent. I cradle her in my arms as I lay down with her, happy to follow her lead. She pulls at the hem of my undershirt, and I lean back a little, questioning her with my eyes. _Drunk_, I repeat to myself. _I don't want this to happen this way_.

We separate and look at each other, calming our breathing, a little surprised at the depth of the connection we both feel. But we remain wordless. I reposition against the pillows so she can lean into my shoulder. After a few minutes, I notice her eyelids begin to flutter, and I hear a barely audible, "Thank you," as she drifts off. I know I have to leave or I'll fall asleep and no amount of explanation will be good enough if anyone catches me leaving here in the morning.

Pressing a kiss into her forehead, I slide out of the bed and cover her with a throw. I put my shirt back on, taking care to button it and tuck it back in, trying to preserve a little dignity. I gently close the balcony doors and a thought occurs to me. I grab a glass from her bathroom, fill it with water, and deposit it on her bedside table. She'll need that in the morning. I shove my feet into my shoes and my arms into my jacket, wrapping my tie around my fist and stuffing it into my pants pocket.

"Good night, Viviana," I murmur as I turn out the light and leave the room. I take the back stairwell up to the third floor, hoping to avoid seeing anyone before I make it to my own room. I need to mull over the events of tonight alone.

…..

**Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! :) Let me know what you think! As always, you are all awesome! XOXO SJ**

**azure blue espeon: Noted. Thanks for reading! :)**

**nationaltitle: Got it. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**AcademicGirl: I may have posted in the wee hours of the morning, but you were reading way too early. Blerg. Hate mornings. (Maybe because I stay up too late…? ;) I am so glad you enjoyed it and thought it was cute. So, who are you shipping? Any of them, or are you reserving judgment for later? Thanks so much for thinking there were multiple "good parts" of the chapter. What about this time? Poor Claire. Overwhelmed by the affections of the Crown Prince. Not unheard of, is it? Thanks for reading—hope you are pleasantly surprised by this update! :)**

**Dolly123: Yay! You're back. Thanks for the review. I am so glad you liked the last chapter. So, I know the Ethan/Beth interaction was limited…but there is more to come in future chapters. What do you think?**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Thanks for taking the time to read. I hope you've buckled down and studied this week! (That epilogue isn't going to write itself, you know…j/k ;) So, what do you think? Surprised? Shipping yet? :)**

**Guest: Aspen. Got it. Thanks for reading!**

**luv2read4reading: Gale. So noted. Hope you liked this last chapter.**

**Slominski: Got the vote. I appreciate you taking the time to read. :)**

**jthornestudent: So, what do you think of the second half of the party? Thanks for reading and reviewing. I am slowly writing more for you! :)**

**yay: You are so sweet. Thank you for saying so. I'm glad you're enjoying the story! :)**

**prnamber3909: Yay! You're back. I'm sorry, but Fae is currently in Italy. What is the poor boy supposed to do? ;) Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

…..

BRACKET: **ASPEN**

_So, next up? _ Four (Tobias Eaton) VS Peeta


	18. Chapter 18

**And, here's your next installment! Happy reading, everyone! :) SJ**

**….**

"Morning, Cousin!" Ethan yells, crossing to the blinds and allowing the sunlight to flood my room.

I groan, "Go away," and cover my head with my arms.

He responds by laughing, "What's the matter, Cousin? Are you sick? You looked fine last night!"

"Ethan," I growl, and point to the door. "Out."

"You sure you don't want this coffee I brought up just for you? I had this feeling you might like some black coffee. If you don't want it, I guess I can drink it myself…"

I sit up and gesture for him to bring the coffee to me. After a deep sip, I ask, "What time is it anyway?"

"And he speaks in a full sentence! A little after 8:00 AM, sleeping beauty. You are currently late for a security meeting. You must feel fairly secure." He laughs at his own joke and I just make a face.

"I'm excused from that today, smart ass."

He laughs again in reply, "Well, don't say I never tried to help you."

"Ethan, you're like the big brother I never had."

"And you, Calix, are the little brother I never wanted."

I finally snicker at that, and he throws himself into my desk chair, spinning idly from side to side. "So, how was your night with Beth?" I glance at him from the corner of my eye, and see him color a little. He doesn't answer me. "That good or that bad?"

He smiles a little, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Ethan, I may have had a little to drink last night." He guffaws audibly at that statement, and I try again. "Okay, I _did_ have a little to drink last night. But, even I could tell you two are close."

"Fine," he admits. "She's wearing the ring again"

I nod and grin. I'm genuinely glad for him, but can't think of an appropriate insult. So, I say nothing and finish the last few swallows of my coffee. "Thanks for that," I say, placing the empty mug on my bedside table and launching myself from the bed. I have about twenty minutes before I'm due to meet Charlie in the training room. "I'm going to run the trail with Charlie. You want to come with, or are you going to protect me from here?"

He looks at me as if that was the weirdest thing he had ever heard. "Let me get this straight. You are meeting Charlie?" I nod. "On palace property?" I nod again. "And you want to bring me along?" I feel a flush come to my face. "You're an idiot. I should go just to teach you a lesson."

I open and then close my mouth quickly. It is strange that I invited him, but I feel like it is fine for him to go. He and Charlie would get along. I turn from him to grab my running gear. "The invitation is open if you change your mind," I yell from my closet.

"Whatever," he calls back. "See you at brunch."

…X.X.X.X…

The minute I open the door to the family common room, I know I have made a mistake. All the voices I hear are distinctively female, and all are laughing. Loudly. Now I know why Officer Avery was shaking his head "no" at me. I look at him, and he just shrugs and mouths "good luck."

I take a deep breath, and enter the room the rest of the way. Mom is the first to notice. And her greeting encourages the rest of her guests to still their mirth. "Oh, Calix, sweetheart. Come in."

I cross the entry way to the sitting area, and return Mom's embrace. I notice that all the women who have watched me grow up are occupying the sofa and chairs. Only Grandmom and Aunt Kenna are missing, which is odd, because they were at brunch. I try not to shift on my feet, but it is difficult with Aunt Marlee, Aunt Georgia, Aunt May, Lady Kriss, Lady Elise, and Mom all looking at me expectantly.

"What do you need, Cal?" Mom asks, flashing me a smile, and giving my shoulder another squeeze before taking her seat again.

I look around the circle, and turn back to Mom. "I was hoping to talk to Grandmom and Aunt Kenna before they left. I didn't get much of a chance to visit with them. Did I miss them?"

Aunt May elbows Aunt Marlee in the side as she teases me, "Yes, you were rather distracted last night, and this morning, too." Aunt Marlee and Aunt Georgia don't even try to contain their giggles, as Lady Kriss and Lady Elise just smile broadly at me.

Good lord. Avery should have thrown himself in front of the door to keep me from opening it.

"I'm sorry, Cal. Astra wasn't feeling well, so they all went home." Mom touched her abdomen briefly, and I take that to mean Astra's morning sickness prompted the abrupt exit. She and her husband are expecting their first. It's hard for me to believe my cousin is having a baby, even though I know she's five years older. Aunt Kenna doesn't seem old enough to be a grandmother. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I guess not. I'll leave you all to your talk. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Not so fast," Aunt May pipes up. She stands from her seat, and pulls me over to the couch, wedging me in between Aunt Marlee and herself. I start to sweat.

"Oh, May, let the poor boy go," Mom admonishes her younger sister. But I can tell she doesn't mean it, because she is barely containing her laughter. Aunt May can tell the remark has no teeth, as well.

"America, I just have a few questions for him. I'm sure he doesn't mind? Do you Cal?" Aunt May actually bats her eyes at me. I resign myself to the fact that I am currently at their mercy. Surely this can't last that long. Aunt Marlee and Aunt Georgia are still giggling to themselves. Lady Kriss has covered her mouth with her hand, and even Lady Elise's eyes are shining with amusement.

"I guess not, Aunt May?" I look to Mom, and she just shrugs and winks at me. Fine.

"So, tell me Cal. What do you think of the remaining Selected?"

I should have known. At least this will give me interview practice. "They're a wonderful group of women," I say diplomatically.

"Did you hear that, everyone? They're wonderful." Aunt May is solely in charge of this interrogation, and the others respond affirmatively. "I'm so happy to hear that, Cal. Are there any particularly more wonderful than others?" She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"Umm. Aunt May, I've only just met them, really."

"That's true, I know. But it seems to me that you may have spent a little more time with some last evening." She squeezes my arm, and smiles. I had no idea she was keeping close tabs on me last night. "And wine and moonlight can have an interesting effect on people. Plus, you've met them enough to eliminate seventeen contestants."

"I believe I danced with all the remaining candidates last night."

"Oh, yes," Aunt Marlee chimed in. "You did dance with all of them. But, who did you seek out for yourself, Calix, dear?"

I clamp my mouth shut. I'm confused enough about the events of last night without announcing favorites to this group.

"Well," Aunt Georgia begins, "I guess I could look at the security video." Her offer is met with enthusiastic chatter from the others.

Mom defends me a bit, "I don't think that is necessary, Georgia."

I decide to turn the tables on them. "Did you all get a chance to meet any of the women? What did you think of them?"

Suddenly, I know what they were talking about before I entered the room. They erupt into laughter again. Mom is trying valiantly to keep her face composed. I look from face to face. And Aunt Georgia speaks first, "Viviana is just a doll." The others chime in with their agreement. "August and I knew her father. He was a dedicated, loyal man. We were so sorry to lose him."

My ears perk up and I give Aunt Georgia a questioning look.

"She's from Bonita, Cal. Her father passed in the fire thirteen years ago." I had no idea Viviana's father was a member of the Northern Alliance. I don't know what to say, so I say nothing.

Aunt Marlee continues, "She may be kind, but I saw her stick up for Claire the other day. One of the other girls, that horrible Emma, was trying to bait her into an argument in the Women's Room. So, VIviana can be feisty, too. I wanted to clap, but I had to pretend I hadn't heard anything."

"Emma," Aunt May groans, "She spends all her time with Pollyanna, right?" She rolls her eyes.

"Pollyanna?" I ask. I'm a little confused, until I realize she must be referring to Ana.

"Yes, she's just so stinking sweet," Aunt Georgia explains. "I don't trust her farther than I can throw her." The general consensus surprises me. I've never seen a malicious side of Ana, and I can't help but feel they are being a little unfair.

I cross my arms.

Mom, Lady Kriss, and Lady Elise stay quiet, but their eyes are amused.

"You know who has made a hit with the boys?" Aunt May elbows me. "Charlie. Every other word out of Griffin's mouth has something to do with Charlie."

"I like seeing Charlie, Claire, and Viviana sticking together. The other girls can be so catty when they think we can't hear them," Aunt Marlee sighs. "You wouldn't believe what the Women's Room maid was telling me the other day. She said that-"

"Enough," I spit. "Fine. Why don't you all just write down one woman that you'd like to eliminate." I pull a scrap of paper out of my pants pocket, and pass it to Aunt Georgia. They oblige me and send it around the circle. Aunt May hands me the list after writing down a name. I notice Mom lets the list pass her by. I take a quick look. "Well, we're down to twelve now. Happy?" I stand, feeling annoyed, but a little relieved at the same time.

"Oh, Cal," Aunt May gasps, and puts her hand over her mouth.

I don't answer her, instead, "If there's nothing else? I apparently have some things to take care of." I stride to the door, and am about halfway down the hall when I hear Mom calling to me to slow down. So, I stop and allow her to catch up. I'm not really angry, and the insight into Ana might be founded. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt. They are actually saving me time and energy.

I let her gather me into her arms, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't have let them tease you." Her brow is furrowed, and a look of concern has overtaken her face. "We got carried away."

"Don't worry about it, Mom. At least you all care, right?" I shoot her a smile, and turn to go. She grabs my hand to stop me.

"Are you sure you want to eliminate more women already? Don't you feel like you may be going too fast? Your father took longer to narrow the field."

"Mom, Dad never had the chance to leave the palace. He had to shadow his father day in and day out, and never interacted with people his own age. And, you heard Stephen," I joke. "The polls go up when I'm decisive and do sweeping eliminations. It tells the public I know what I want."

"And do you?" she cocks her head.

"Know what I want?" My thoughts flash immediately to Fae, and then to last night. "Right now, I know what I don't want. And that's further ahead than I was, right?"

"I didn't put anyone on that list for a reason, Cal. I will learn to care for anyone you do. If she is special to you, she will become special to me." Mom looks like she wants to say something else, but thinks better of it. She hugs me again, and I hug back this time. She takes the opportunity to whisper in my ear, "I love you."

"I know, Mom. I love you, too."

…X.X.X.X…

I walk by the Women's Room, not even partially tempted to enter. That has to be the second-scariest room in the palace today. My family common room is the first. As I turn the corner, I see a golden blonde girl approaching from the other direction. Audrey Knoll. She attended Columbia with me, and we were in the same freshman dorm, but I feel like I know her from somewhere else.

"Audrey," I greet her.

"Prince Calix," she breathes and curtsies. She looks slightly apprehensive, and I figure it is because of the eliminations I've been making all afternoon.

"I thought you might want to have dinner with me tonight? We could reminisce about Columbia?"

"I'd like that," she answers. "We could spend hours talking just about Dr. Anken's Intro to Psych class."

That's it! We had a class together. "Instead of the dining room, go to the gardens at dinner time. I'll meet you there."

Her green eyes sparkle as she assents. Finally, a woman who isn't crying after I talk to her this afternoon. A quick look at my watch tells me if I don't hurry, I'm going to be late for the budget meeting.

…..

**Yay! Another chapter moving us toward the meat of the story. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks so much for reading/reviewing/favoriting! XOXO SJ**

**nationaltitle: Okay. You might be a Four fan? Thanks for reading!**

**Selection Fan: Thanks so much, and thanks for keeping up with the story. :)**

**prnamber3909: It's always a little weird, isn't it? One boy dating 35 girls… Strange.**

**Soccerlurve: Hahahaha. :) I enjoyed the pun. Thanks! Hope this update is soon enough for you. What do you think about the chapter?**

**dolly123: I am so glad you like this chapter and that you think the story is getting better and better! I'm glad you like all the girls—I wonder if we would have felt the same reading the original story from Maxon's POV instead of America's? I dunno. Something to think about. And, I know. Cal is enjoying this part of the Selection, isn't he? At least he didn't kiss all of the remaining 18… Does that show some self -control? ;) I'm glad you're excited for the next chapters. What did you think of this one? :)**

**AcademicGirl: I am glad you liked chapter 17. Aw, Viviana and Cal are cute together aren't they? I'm actually very proud of Cal that he exercised some self-control there at the end… Good boy. Drunkenness and close proximity never ends well. :) Cool idea, but I'll be sticking with Cal's POV. I just don't have it in me to switch it up. I kinda wish I'd started the whole thing in third person, but it's way too late now… Thanks for always reviewing and giving opinions! Hope you enjoyed this last chapter, too. (And regarding Four and Peeta, they are both total fools for love, aren't they?)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Good to see your name pop up! Just a first view of what Cal is capable of, mind you. He is still exercising self-control, sort of, right? :) Soon enough, for you? ;)**

**luv2read4reading: Cal is dating all the women. And, it is sort of encouraged, isn't it? Some player-esque qualities may show themselves… :)**

**happyfaces501kim: Yes, he is less like a donkey and more like a boy with the whole world available to him. ;) And, I agree his self-control is being tested… Poor kid. Thanks for reading and reviewing! :)**

**azure blue espeon: Thanks for reading, and hope the last one lived up to expectations! :)**

**username1096: Awww, thanks. Ethan and Beth will make other appearances, just so you know. (He has to, because Ethan is one of my favs.) I'm glad you like all the women, and the last chapter! Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think of this one, too. :)**

…

BRACKET: **Four** (Tobias)

_And next up…_ **WARNER** (Shatter Me) vs **KY** (Matched)

….


	19. Chapter 19

**For your reading enjoyment! (At least, I hope so.) XOXO SJ :)**

**...X.X.X.X…**

I quickly grab a jacket and tie, even though I know they both will probably be abandoned by the end of the meeting. Sometimes, I am a lot more like my father than I like to admit. I take a quick glimpse in the mirror, and run my hand through my hair. It will have to do for now. I begin to make my way to Dad's study.

"Take the money. I want you to have it." Ethan's voice reaches my ears before I actually see him. I slow my pace, not wanting to invade his privacy, and not immediately locating him, either. He must be in an alcove, and he definitely doesn't realize how his voice and conversation are carrying.

Beth rejects his offer soundly. "I can't do that, Ethan. I'll admit I wasn't planning on replacing the machine so early. But I'll have the money in a few weeks. Then I'll replace the mixer. Until then, I'll just have to work longer hours. I'll be okay."

"You're already working ten and twelve hour days. Didn't you just lose an assistant? Please, hon, for me?"

"Don't ask again. You know how I feel about this."

Ethan doesn't let the matter drop. "You know the increased palace orders led to the motor burning out. Consider it a loan?"

I realize I'm eavesdropping, and decide to reveal myself. They both look startled as I walk to the entrance of the alcove. Beth's face and ears turn red, and Ethan's arm goes around her shoulders to comfort her. "I'm sorry, but I heard the conversation." I pull a card with my seal from my pocket. In town, merchants know the card is as good as money. It is guaranteed by the palace. I try to pass it to Beth. "If your mixer died because of our orders, we'd like to make that right."

"No, thank you," she replies, hands solidly at her sides.

"Beth, don't be silly. It's no problem. Please, just take the card."

She draws herself up to her full height and shakes Ethan's hand off her shoulder. Her voice is noticeably colder. "Prince Calix, I appreciate the offer. But this happens in small businesses. And, I don't want to owe anyone," she looks pointedly at Ethan, "anything."

I retract my hand, placing the card back in my pocket and matching her formality. "I understand, Miss Bakersfield. I'm sorry if I overstepped."

As I walk away, I hear Ethan ask, "If you won't let me replace the mixer, how can I help you?"

"Fine," Beth sighs. "Come and help me make pastries. Just make sure to set a good alarm. We'll have to start around 3:30 in the morning."

I just shake my head as I continue down the corridor. After a week of early wake up calls, I bet Ethan finds a way to talk her into the mixer.

I stride into the budget meeting to see most everyone else already there, but luckily, not already seated. Just in time. I shake hands with Commander Leger, Stephen, and Head of Parliament Asa Sutton. Sutton seems to represent the parliament on all the committees. Wentworth Reed, financial advisor, is not in attendance. I wonder if that is wise, and tuck the thought away for later to be discussed with Dad one-on-one. Before I take my seat, I also greet Mom and Aunt Marlee. Mom raises an eyebrow as if to ask if the eliminations were uneventful. I give her a quick thumbs up, and she allows a ghost of a smile. As I sit, I glance at the agenda. As I suspected, the Selection discussion will take up a good portion of the meeting time because of the amount of attention and money it is currently receiving, and the fact that it is a temporary, large expense.

The staff begins serving a late lunch. I'm still distracted by the conversation that Ethan and Beth were having. The fact that the unintended consequence of broken equipment never occurred to me when we began ordering from Beth. And, it didn't seem quite fair to me that she wouldn't let me make it right. Although, it will be funny to see Ethan rising before the sun, I can't imagine how he'll make it through a normal day. And Beth. How much more can she work?

I absentmindedly take a bite from my plate, and notice the flavors of one of my favorite dishes. Lobster salad. Lobster salad? We just finished a large brunch, and dinner would be more formal as well. Do we have something against ham sandwiches? That's one way we could trim the budget.

Barrett and Griffin slip into their seats as Dad calls the meeting to order and I struggle to pay full attention. I give them a small smile, but my mind keeps straying to Beth and how I can help without offending her. Sutton gives a quick summary of the agenda, and though I have seen the real numbers before, the totals are repugnant to me. The Selection is an example of excess in every horrible definition of the word.

According to Stephen, the public is solidly behind the Selection. At least, that's what the polling is showing. He shares his plan to bring the remaining Selected in front of the country. He grins at me, feeling solidarity because of the video spot project, I'm sure. He's not that much older than me, but I doubt we'll ever be close. He cares too much about the polls and not enough about the people, as far as I'm concerned. "We can call it, 'Dream Date with the Prince,' and each lady can plan an evening with Prince Calix. We can film and air or air live? And citizens will have an opportunity to take a real peek inside the Selection." Baer and Griffin are hiding their smirks like champs. Everyone else is sitting, composed, expectantly turning to me.

Despite favorable public opinion, Commander Leger has had to increase military presence again in electing provinces. That tells me that everything is not going as well as the polls say. This information concerns me, because nothing is more imperative than the elections going smoothly. Next comes the food and education initiatives. Somewhere, trailing the pack of everything that is more important, comes the Selection. A frown takes over my features.

"Calix, you look as if you have something you need to say," Dad prompts me. He's ready to turn this portion of the meeting over to me, and I realize I am ready to take it. This disparity is something I can feel passionately about without much effort. In fact, I realize I am beginning to feel warm from irritation.

I'm pulled from my thoughts, and look around the table. "I'm dismayed," I begin. "Even with the substantial eliminations in the first few rounds, the Selection is taking more than its share of the budget. There are things that are more important, like getting the job training programs off the ground. This new venture sounds even more expensive, as we would leave palace grounds. And that has ripple effects."

Sutton speaks up. Of course he does. "But, nothing is more important than choosing the next queen, your majesty."

"I see," I narrow my eyes. "I wonder if our citizens that are struggling feel the same way. I'm sure it's very important to them that the Selected are allowed this amount," I punch the paper in front of me, "for new dresses? Or perhaps, they agree that the food initiatives must be supported so their children do not go to school hungry? Isn't a literate citizenry the most important asset we could provide the monarchy?"

Sutton rolls his eyes in an exaggerated fashion and mutters, "This again?" under his breath. Stephen freezes, his fidgeting suddenly quieted. Sutton knows he overstepped. The whole _room _knows he overstepped. Everyone pauses while they wait for me to respond, and Dad cocks his head, especially interested in this exchange.

"Mr. Sutton, I hope I am not boring you. Just a few short years ago, your position as Head of Parliament didn't exist. It is our monarchy's dedication to choice within our populace that allows you to be here today, and which restrains me from allowing my personal feelings about you to spill over into our professional interactions. I'm sure you are aware that my grandfather would not have been as gracious if he was interrupted."

I meet his eyes, watching as his composure cracks, and a moment of realization passes over his features. He remembers King Clarkson's cruelty, and his mother's family had been on the receiving end of it at one point in their history. The leverage is not something I use lightly. He will recognize that my contributions to the table are not just to be tolerated. His position is tenuous, and because of our absolute rule, if I so chose I could remove him from his position as easily as he was appointed. He doesn't understand that I would never grab back that power, and maybe for right now I will press that advantage.

He finally looks down, mumbling, "Of course you aren't, Prince Calix. Please continue."

_Apology accepted_, I think to myself and glance around the table again. Dad and Mom look content, and even Commander Leger's features have softened. "Thank you, Mr. Sutton. And that is why I will make another cut before the International Summit. The funds can be used to keep the delegates comfortable and safe, and then be channeled back to the people. By the International Summit at Halloween, we will have only five Selection candidates remaining.

As another cost-savings measure, I believe we should not continue to compensate any women who are not contributing financially to their family. For instance, Ana is not employed, yet we are sending her family a stipend for her participation in the Selection. Only women who are financially contributing and losing pay should be compensated. For instance, Charlotte Everly is a professional skier with sponsors from across the globe. Even though she is contributing financially to her family, her sponsors are continuing to pay her stipends even as she is on hiatus. She should not be compensated. However, other women are on leave from their places of employment without pay. They should continue to receive the stipend.

All of these women will cease to have financial worries once the Selection is completed, so this change should not cause a hardship for anyone. And, Commander Leger would be able to use the funding for election security. Or, it could be channeled into other projects." I look around the table, daring anyone to contradict me. No one does. I lean back in my chair and allow a small smile to form. I am incredibly satisfied with this meeting so far.

The meeting continues, and I half-listen, interjecting as I see fit. Baer and Griffin are actually active participants, which I am glad to see. Both have a better handle on this component of ruling than I ever did at their age.

We finally adjourn, and I excuse myself quickly. I am not truly in the mood to talk, and a quick look at my watch tells me I have enough time for a quick rest before dinner.

**…X.X.X.X…**

_I open my eyes as Fae pulls a sweater out of my closet, folding it quickly and putting in the box by her feet. She's fully dressed in a warm-looking purple sweater and dark jeans. Her hair is braided back from her face and she even applied make up. Even though I always tell her she doesn't need any, sometimes she insists. "Really, Calix, where did you get that one?" She seems to sense that I am awake, and doesn't even look my way as she pulls another one from a shelf. "This one is horrid." She holds up the patterned wool garment._

_"Hey, that's my favorite!" I protest, sitting up on my elbows. "Love, what are you doing going through my closet at this ungodly hour anyway?" I glance at the clock on my bedside table, and the red light declares it is 6:00 AM on Saturday morning. The sky beyond the window panes is dark, with no hint of sunrise. "Come back to bed."_

_She continues to mutter, "How do you get dressed in the morning without any help? Your mother let you bring these horrible things?" while removing items from my closet. She moves to the dresser, and I make another attempt._

_"I promise, love, that you can make me over at a more respectable hour today. Whatever you want. I'll even go shopping if that would make you happy. Just come back to bed." I give her my most enticing smile, and flop backwards, pulling the covers up to my chin._

_She laughs and shakes her head at me, "You are so pitiful, Cal. I knew you'd forget." She continues her assault on my wardrobe. "Remember what we're supposed to do today?"_

_"Sleep until lunchtime, make Ethan do a food run, and then take a nap?" I suggest hopefully, not wanting to leave the comfort and privacy of my room. We've had a busy week, and I just want to curl my arms around her and rest._

_Fae rolls her eyes but laughs again despite herself. She comes over to the bed and pokes at the comforter near my stomach. "How do you keep those abs with that inherent laziness?" _

_In one quick motion I grab her and pull her back onto the bed, pinning her arms to her sides and eliciting a surprised squeal. "High metabolism and good genes," I tease back, and bury my face in her neck planting kisses and tickling her at the same time. She squirms against me until I capture her lips, at first playfully and then more insistently. She slides her arms from my grasp and wraps them around my neck as she answers. My hands travel to the hem of her sweater and she brushes them away. Not the response I expect. I pull back and raise an eyebrow._

_She catches her breath enough to say, "Come on, Cal, you promised to go to the soup line this morning. It's really important to me."_

_She's right. I totally forgot. "Okay, love. Okay." Her smile flashes and makes her eyes sparkle in the dim light from the bedside lamp. I'd do anything to keep the smile on her face. I sigh and launch myself off the bed. As I pick from the remaining clothes in my closet, I ask, "Why is this so important to you?"_

_"Calix Shalom Schreave, I can't even believe you would ask me that question. We have a responsibility because of our economic position. You have a responsibility because of your power. Some of the people on the soup lines suffered through generations of Illea and Schreave rule; they were kept uneducated and barely employed. Surviving instead of living…" She is beginning her favorite rant. I come out of the closet with my hands up. She is standing in the middle of the room, feet apart, hands on her hips._

_"Sorry, love, you know I agree with you." I cross to her, and put my arms around her shoulders. "I shouldn't have teased so early in the morning. The sins of Clarkson Schreave all the way to Gregory Illea are mine to atone for and make right. I'm doing my best. I just think in my first royal proclamation that I could start the soup lines more around 10:00 AM." She cracks a smile and I know I have her. She never can stay irritated with me for long._

_"I forgive you. And if you stop complaining about the time, I'll let you wake up Ethan any way you'd like. He has to come with us you know." Her eyes are glinting mischievously. I had forgotten about Ethan. _

_I chuckle, and pull her in for one more kiss. "You start the coffee, I'll wake my dear cousin." _

A sharp knock at the door sends me shooting straight up in bed. It takes me a minute to realize that I am in my room at the palace. That Fae isn't in my arms. That so much has happened since the day I was dreaming about came to pass. I rub my hand across my face and take a deep, steadying breath before answering.

"Yes?"

"Cal, can I come in?"

I throw myself into a seated position, simultaneously answering, "Of course, Dad."

**…X.X.X.X…**

**Hello, everyone! Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I love seeing your perspectives and thoughts. The virtual pats on the back are motivating as the semester starts to swallow me whole! **

** Theoneforever: Thanks for reading! Hopefully this was soon enough!**

**Jthornestudent: Thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you like it. What do you think of CH 19?**

**azure blue espeon: I think you are being too hard on yourself! I really appreciate the reviews from "regulars" even if it's a short "nice chapter." :) Anyway, you could always pick your favorite line or interaction, if you'd like. But "nice chapter" is fine with me, because I know you wouldn't write it if you don't mean it. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think about CH 19! :)**

**happyfacess501kim: I do like Ethan and Calix together. They'd be fun to hang out with, right? Hope you like this chapter, too. Thanks for reading!**

**prnamber3909: Got it. So, what did you think about the Fae portion of this chapter? :)**

**soccerlurve: Thanks. What's up with the "love" instead of the "lurve"? ;) I'm glad you are liking the story. I LURVE it when you have time to comment! :)**

**AcademicGirl: I know—they were kinda cruel, weren't they? But, you could totally picture it happening, right? Thanks for reading. I've read your update, but am stumped on a title. It's rolling around on my hamster wheel, so I'll comment soon. Anyway, thanks again for stopping by…can't wait to hear what you think of CH 19! :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: So, I had a teacher in middle school who used to say "Self-control young people…" And I couldn't help but think of that for some reason. :) Anyway, our Cal has a bit of a temper, so I wouldn't put anything past him. As we know, he can get quite impulsive at times… Takes after his mom, he does. :) He's about to find out quite a bit… Patience. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! :)**

**dolly123: Aww, thanks. I love writing Ethan and Cal scenes, especially since Cal has straightened up a bit and isn't punching Ethan in the face anymore… ;)**

**luv2read4reading: You have got to read ****_Shatter Me._**** But noted! :)**

**username1096: Thank you so much! Your comments are always so sweet. I think you're going to like the next chapter… let me know what you think of this one! Thanks again! :)**

**BRACKET GAME**

Okay, so **there is a tie **between KY and WARNER. Unless I totally miscounted? Which I guess is a possibility. So, anyone else want to vote? We'll re-do the KY and WARNER vote this time… :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Wow—can't believe how long it has been since I posted. See below. Thanks for reading and let's not delay any more! :) SJ**

_A sharp knock at the door sends me shooting straight up in bed. It takes me a minute to realize that I am in my room at the palace. That Fae isn't in my arms. That so much has happened since the day I was dreaming about came to pass. I rub my hand across my face and take a deep, steadying breath before answering. _

_"Yes?"_

_"Cal, can I come in?"_

_I throw myself into a seated position, simultaneously answering, "Of course, Dad."_

He stands in the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the faint light, "I hope I didn't wake you. I know sleep is hard to come by around this place right now." He sends his free hand through his hair, eventually allowing it to rest on the back of his neck. That's when I notice he has a small bundle in his other hand.

"Well, it was time to get up anyway. If not you, it would have been Ethan. And frankly, your way was probably more pleasant."

Dad's smile is wide as he takes a seat on my desk chair, placing the bundle on my desk, "That's right. You and Ethan do tend to challenge each other. It's been good for you, don't you think?"

"I guess so," I shrug. "Better than not?"

"How do you think the budget meeting went?" Dad leans back in the chair, the most relaxed I've seen him in a while.

"Well, once Sutton decided that I might know what I'm talking about, it went much better."

He nods, "The way you handled his disruption was much calmer this time. Though the reference to your grandfather may have been a bit heavy-handed." I begin to wonder if this is a reprimand. Dad sees my face cloud and continues, "Not unwarranted, but a little forceful." He reassures me, "Sutton's a good man, Cal, but he's been unnecessarily obnoxious with you, and you had to take control of the situation."

"I can't help but be disgusted by all the money we're spending on the Selection. I see the programs we need to implement or support, and I'm frustrated. I _know_ it is tradition. I _know_ it is expected. But, I can't seem to tell that to my gut, Dad." I sigh and a quick glance at his face tells me he is choosing his next words carefully.

He knits his eyebrows together, and then runs his hand through his hair again. I feel like I am looking into a mirror from the future. "I understand, Cal, that your," he pauses again before finding the right word, "_enthusiasm_ for the Selection may have changed. Especially considering your recent disappointment." We both know he is talking about Fae, but thankfully he is kind enough not to say her name. "You have done well moving past all that." I begin to feel uncomfortable as he stops again, and I look to the bundle on the desk. I just need him to tell me what he came for, because now my nerves from his caution are making me jumpy. I feel like I need to pace, and see he is resisting the same urge. "But look at his point of view. He believes any budget is well spent, because that is how important the role of queen has become, due to your mother's influence."

I stand, intending to stop him, and try to assuage his concern. "Dad, I'm just impatient. I'm ready to narrow down the Selection and get to the real work. We have so much we need to accomplish."

"You really can't achieve anything as king without your queen beside you, Cal. I wouldn't be the same ruler without your mother." His gaze and posture are much more serious now. "The Selection is not just a budget, Calix. It is the future of your reign. It is the beginning of your legacy. And of course it is taking you time to figure out." He looks less at me, and more at a memory. "My own Selection was complicated enough, not made any easier by my father and professions of love I received from the Princess of France before it even started." His turns again to me, his gaze hard to read.

His frankness surprises me, and I drop back onto the edge of my bed. I open and then immediately close my mouth, as I have no real answer to his statement.

"And that's really what I wanted to talk about." He takes the bundle from my desk, and unwraps it, revealing several small moleskin books. "I realized that I have never shown these to you—no one has read them except for me, really—and I think that has been a mistake." He stands and passes them to me, and I stand to take them. "These are the journals of Clarkson and Maxon Schreave. They will share insight about our rule, particularly how far we've come. And, if you're interested, the full story of your mother and me." He squeezes my shoulder, as the look of surprise feels as if it is a permanent fixture on my face. "There's so much I want to say, Cal, and I think these will help. Who knows? You might want to start keeping a journal yourself."

Quietly I respond, "I'll read them."

"And please, find me when you have questions. You will have questions."

I just nod in reply.

"Well," he composes himself, straightening his shirt and jacket. "Dinner is in fifteen minutes, and I promised Mom we'd go down together." He turns to leave and I find my voice.

"Dad, I…" I begin.

"Yes, Cal?" He turns with his hand on the door.

"Thanks." I abandon my train of thought. I don't have the words to explain just yet. "I just wanted to say thanks."

"Of course," he smiles as he continues into the hall. "Read. Then we'll talk."

**…X.X.X.X…**

I find Claire in the library after dinner, tendrils of white blonde hair slipping from its twist as she pours over a volume. Somehow, she had found time to change out of her dinner dress and into jeans and an oversized green sweater. The green in the sweater made her eyes look even more blue. I still haven't decided what they remind me of, their color is hers alone. Her long legs are curled underneath her body as she rests against the arm of the couch. I'm not as quiet as I think I am leaning against the doorframe, because she looks up and adjusts her glasses.

"Calix," she grins and pats the seat beside her.

I sit, and say "I was hoping I'd find you here."

A shadow of worry crosses her face, and I reach and take her hand. "No, Claire. Not that." She relaxes, and leans into me. I wrap my other arm around her shoulders. "I thought you'd know that isn't on my list of things to do today." I press a kiss into her hair, catching the faint scent of something floral.

"Well, the gossip around the Women's Room is that you are narrowing to the final five by the Halloween gala…" she teases, and closes her book.

"Sounds like you have informants. I wonder who the leak is?" knowing the whole time that Aunt Marlee told the kitchen staff. I take the tome from her and groan, "Shakespeare again! Can't you give the Bard of Avalon a break?" I remember why I was looking for her again. "I found something I thought you might like." I pull the book from the breast pocket of my jacket and hand it to her, ready to identify new memories. "If you're going to read poetry, you might want to move from ancient to old."

She takes the book and reads aloud, "_Paterson_ by William Carlos Williams." She nods and pats the cover, but doesn't open it.

"It's one of my favorites."

"Thank you."

But, she still leaves it flat on her lap. "You don't like it." I'm a little surprised, because I just spent the thirty minutes from dessert to now pawing through a box in my study looking for it. I was sure she'd like it as much as I do.

"It's a great gift, Calix. I just like that you're thinking about me when you're looking at your bookshelf." She elbows me in the side.

"Let me guess, you hate William Carlos Williams."

"Despise him. _Nothing_ depends on a red wheelbarrow. And if you're so sorry you ate the plums, go buy more. He's a physician, not a poet. And it shows. It just shows." Her glasses slip down her nose a little as she derides all aspects of his writing.

The look of disgust on her face makes me chuckle, and I reach up just in time to catch her glasses, which perch at an awkward angle.

"I guess I can trust you to be honest with me," I joke. "You sure know a lot about him for not liking his poetry."

"I spent a rather disastrous semester in a 20th century writers course. The professor loved Williams, and detested me. I admit I may be a little biased because of that experience." She takes her glasses and slips them back into the place.

"I don't think I can picture a professor disliking you. You're sure?"

"He told me during office hours that I reminded him of an old girlfriend. And then refused to explain my poor grade on my midterm essay. I have never been hated by a teacher. If he didn't hate me, I'm not sure what that emotion looks like."

I try not to laugh full out as a pout forms, "And I see you're not bitter about it."

"He shot my GPA apart. Because I have blonde hair," her frown could be almost heard as well as seen.

I tug a strand. "Hey, I like blond hair!" I can't contain my grin as she rolls her eyes. "Good to know you don't hold a grudge," I toss _Paterson_ onto the coffee table with the Shakespeare collection, and pull her closer to me. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Done. So how did your budget meeting go?"

"Let's not talk about that right now."

"Calix, I grew up with a politician for a father and no siblings. What do you think the conversation around the dinner table was about?"

"Really, I just have a lot to think about. I'm not ready to talk about it yet."

"Well, when you are," she squeezes my hand, and leans back into my shoulder.

I close my eyes for a second, enjoying the comfort of holding her. But I know that I am using this time to procrastinate. Eventually, I will have to go back to my room and confront the journals.

I don't know how much time goes by before she whispers, "It's all going to work out." And I'm startled by her voice. Despite the volume, it sounds strong. "You will be as good of a king as your father, and move our country even farther forward. If that's what you want. If you believe it."

Claire hasn't really ever pulled punches with me, but she's never been this forthright before either. The seriousness of her statements and the confidence with which she says them renders me speechless for the second time tonight. Her attitude reminds me of another girl, smaller, darker, but just as self-assured. I wonder what it would be like to have that support and belief every day. What it would be like to wake up beside her in the morning.

"Claire, I -"

She squeezes my hand again, and I stop. "I never would have stayed if I didn't think so."

The finality of those words catch my attention. I look down as she looks up; after our eyes meet, our lips are next. With great difficulty I murmur into her neck, "Can I walk you back to your room?"

She sighs at the kiss I press behind her ear, then nods her assent. I guide her out of the library, wrapping my arm around her waist and pressing my mouth to her temple. I barely register the small redhead standing near the doorway, a look of loathing directed at my companion.

**….X.X.X.X.…**

The journal slips to the floor as I start up from my desk. I heard stories that my grandfather was a despicable man. But I had no idea how twisted he was. The clock reads 2:45 AM, and I know my parents are sleeping. I pace a bit, running my hand through my hair. It's shocking to find out that if your grandfather had his way, you never would have been born.

Dad wants me to come to him, but I doubt he expects an early wake up call. Who can I talk to that knows the entire history of Clarkson Schreave, the Southern Rebels, and France, but is awake at this hour? I look longingly at my bed, wishing I had stayed longer with Claire. Then I wouldn't have started reading tonight. That's what I get for trying to be a gentleman. I know myself well enough to know that there's no use in trying to sleep now. I don't have meetings until after lunch, so maybe I can catch a nap later.

I trade my flannel pajama pants for workout shorts and pull on a Columbia t-shirt. Four years of school leaves me with no shortage of university gear. I tie my trainers with the only bit of firmness I have left, as my energy is sapped thinking about how my grandfather hated my mother and how far he would have gone to retain his power. Other thoughts began to play on a loop… What if he had controlled himself better. What if he were still alive to terrorize us today. A good run would make me tired, maybe shut off the darker thoughts.

The training room is dark, and I don't flip on more than a couple of lights as I make my way to the treadmill. I turn on the machine and begin to move, finding a rhythm quickly and deliberately picking a demanding pace. Each footfall helps to clear my mind, and I'm hoping it won't be much longer until I can claim a dreamless sleep. The familiar feeling of sweat begins to drip down my forehead and between my shoulder blades about the time that I banish the "what ifs". I try to let my mind wander to the evening I just spent with Claire, but I keep coming back to the question of who would be awake who would know about Clarkson and France. The distraction of the treadmill allows the answer to bubble up to the forefront, and I can't get upstairs to my study fast enough. I grab a towel and take the back stairs at least two at a time. I didn't know why it took me so long to think of it.

**….X.X.X.X….**

**Thank you for sticking with me during my unplanned hiatus. I won't go into details here, but it is good to be back and writing again. Never fear, I am working on this story and will not abandon it! :) Your comments are always appreciated, if you feel like leaving them. And, the bracket is below if you feel like playing the game. It's good to be back! (Frankly, I've got some stories to catch up on!)** **XOXO-SJ**

**Dolly123: Aww, thanks. I like it when Cal finds his voice, too. And, the flashback. I wonder if he will ever truly get over Fae? :) Thanks for reading!**

**Soccerlurve: I don't know. I like capitalized LURVES though. Adds something, I think. I'm glad you liked the chapter and sorry to leave you waiting so long. How'd you like it?**

**Username1096: Thank you so much for reading! I'm glad you liked the chapter, even though the flashback was a little sad. I know, sometimes I want to give him a great big hug and some ice cream. How did you like this one? :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Now that I have updated this—I need to go read your epilogue part 1! Is it possible to be behind on something you do for fun?! :) Glad you thought it was cute—The next chapter should get particularly dicey, I should think… :)**

**happyfacess501kim: It IS nice to see Cal behaving like he's next in line, isn't it. And, Fae's confusing, isn't she. Cal really loved her… Thanks for reading! Hope you like this next chapter! :)**

**AcademicGirl: Ugh, politics. I know. And poor Cal, dreaming about Fae. I never feel ****_obligated_**** to read your stuff, I just ****_like_**** to…but it has been weeks since I've read/written anything. It feels great to be back. Hope you like the latest chapter! :)**

**Sophia: Noted!**

**azure blue espeon: Thanks for mixing it up. Hope most of all that you enjoyed it. Sorry the cliff hanger was so dang long! Thanks for reading! **

**izziielau: Got it. And second, LOVE the puns. I cannot say "yes" or "no" to your question. I do like her. And Calix misses her so much. But, such is life. Thanks for reading! :)**

**NEXT BRACKET: **I hate to even write it: **MAXON **versus **DAY…** Umm, I might know the answer to this one.


	21. Chapter 21

**And another installment…this chapter is a bridge to everything happening at once. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the calm before the proverbial storm! SJ**

_The distraction of the treadmill allows the answer to bubble up to the forefront, and I can't get upstairs to my study fast enough. I grab a towel and take the back stairs at least two at a time. I didn't know why it took me so long to think of it._

I mop my face again, and then slow to a brisk walk as I open the door on the landing. I slightly incline my head at the guards standing at attention. Even at 3:30 AM, they seem completely alert and professional.

Sliding into my chair, I grab the number from the top drawer in my desk. It has been awhile since I have called it myself. I wait impatiently for the assistant, and finally hear the familiar voice at the other end.

"Calix, to what do I owe this call? Didn't we already talk this week, dearest?"

"Yes, Auntie Nic. And you questioned my taste in blondes as you reminded me that you were not a blonde, and could guarantee that they are not more interesting, beautiful, or intelligent than brunettes."

"A very important reminder, Calix. And sometimes I feel you need the aide-mémoire."

"You know I would never second-guess you, Auntie Nic. But I need you to be serious for a moment."

"I am horrified that you would suggest that I am ever anything but completely serious. Even if I am using a light tone, I always mean what I say. Now, dear, it is very early in the morning where you are and I am quite busy today. What do you need besides my solemnity?"

"Right, please forgive me." I roll my eyes to myself, but try and consider the statement as fact. What if Auntie Nic is not as frivolous as I thought?

"Already forgotten. Now, amore mio, please continue. Stalling helps no one."

She clicks her tongue at me, and I take a deep breath and plow right in to the purpose of my call. "Dad gave me Clarkson Schreave's final journal."

"I do not know what I was expecting," she finally says, after I begin to worry about the line going down, "But it was not that announcement. I was wondering when he would; I anticipated it might be closer to your coronation." Her voice is more subdued than I had ever heard it. The only time Auntie Nic had ever been more serious was in the safe room the night Mom was taken. She had joked on the subsequent flight to Italy, even as the rest of us were practically silent for the entire duration. "I admit I wonder why you are calling me."

"My family is asleep, Auntie Nic. And I knew you would be honest with me. I remember the attack orchestrated by France, and I knew of a coalition between France and Illea before. But, Dad never mentioned Clarkson tried to have him killed."

"Calix, I am sure that your father wants to tell you about this himself. And he would be better to do it. This is really not my place." Her silence is complete. She is giving me her full attention.

"Of course it is your place, because you helped stabilize France after King and Queen Bonaparte were deposed. You helped keep us safe during the attacks. You supported the changes Mom and Dad made from the beginning. You're right in the middle of it all." Maybe it is because of the early hour, or the lack of sleep, but my voice has enough of an edge that Auntie Nic ceases to argue. "Dad mentioned that the Princess of France professed her love for him before the Selection. Was that Queen Bonaparte?"

"Yes," she answers, in a clipped tone. I can tell she wants to end the call, but she feels obligated to talk with me.

"And there's more to the story that you won't tell me this morning."

She sighs, and speaks, "So much, and I would rather die than betray the confidences made. There are details that so few people know, that it is like no one does. And I will not be the one to expose those secrets to the light, Calix. There are still lives at stake."

"And those secrets include details regarding the exiled Bonapartes."

"Calix, my dear, as long as our conversation continues in this direction, it must end. As capable as you are, you are not ready for some of these answers. I wish I did not know them myself. Now, if you would like to talk about your favorite Selected candidate or the pressures of rule, or the next steps toward a constitutional monarchy, I will stay on the line until someone on your side of the world wakes up. Otherwise-"

My voice is apologetic, "Auntie Nic."

"Oh, so you would like to discuss that feisty, Bonita-born member of the Selected? Or perhaps the very tall blonde. Not the skier. The other one. Just tell me the red head is still around because she has some redeeming qualities."

"Maybe it is my turn to be mysterious," I match my voice to hers. "You'll meet them soon, enough Auntie, by the International Summit, actually. But, Brie, I haven't heard from her lately. She's okay?"

Auntie Nic's laugh is throaty, "She is more than _okay,_ Calix—she is amazing. She is studying_ art_ in _Italy_! I am looking out for our Abrielle. Do not worry."

"Maybe have her call me the next time you see her? I trust she'll get my message."

She clucks into the phone, "Now, now, Calix, that was unnecessary. But, I will make sure your sister calls you."

"Thanks, Auntie Nic," I reply innocently. I'm glad she noticed the dig, but didn't take offense.

"And, Calix, please talk to your father today," she turns serious again.

"Of course," I reply, and before I can say anything else, I'm left with a dial tone. I shake my head and replace the receiver, realizing how much more difficult it is getting to keep my eyes open. I manage to make it to my couch before sleep finally overtakes me.

**…X.X.X.X…**

My eyes open to a smaller version of my own face staring less than six inches from my own, "He's awake!" Then I hear a deep sniff, and the proclamation, "And he smells!"

I start backwards, making sure to keep from thrashing. "Tyrmian! What are you doing?"

"Helping Ethan find you." The boy looks incredibly pleased with himself as he looks past me to the entrance of the room.

A quick glance to the doorway reveals Ethan, arms crossed across his chest with a very serious look. "He was helping me locate you after you didn't show up for breakfast and you weren't in your room. Your brother was rather concerned for your safety. You'll be happy to know that you are not in the barn, the garden, or the library." He nods to Tyr, who then hands me a muffin. "Your breakfast however, was in each of those places. So, consider yourself warned."

"Aunt May needed a favor?" I ask, around a tentative bite of my slightly-squished blueberry lemon muffin.

Ethan just shrugs, "Tyrmian was pretty disappointed when you didn't show."

I grin at Tyr, as he climbs up on the couch next to me. "Thanks for breakfast, little brother. It's my favorite."

"I haven't seen you in _forever_, Cal. Where have you been?" He scowls, a small furrow appearing between his eyes.

"I know, Tyr. Being busy is a lousy excuse, isn't it? How about after dinner, we play HORSE? You, Barrett, Griffin, Kort, and me. Even Dad and Ethan if they want."

He seems content with that decision. "Okay," he replies, "But no girls. I am tired of all the girls in this place. Except for Ana."

I choke a little, swallow, then answer, "Why not Ana?"

Aunt May appears at the door, hands on her hips with a serious face so much like Mom's I almost feel sorry for the boy beside me, "Tyrmian Michael, you are late for your lessons."

He jumps up, grinning, and practically runs from the room throwing, "Because she gives me candy," over his shoulder. I can hear Aunt May scolding Tyrmian as she follows him down the hallway.

"Word on the street is you smell," Ethan commented, taking the chair across from the couch and handing me a mug of coffee.

I just grunt, and take a deep sip. "I'll take care of that in a minute. Still no meetings before lunch?"

"Your dad wants to see you sometime today, before dinner and preferably before the meeting this afternoon. However, he said he will be in his study all day. He would have told you himself, but-"he gestures toward the couch.

I nod, "So for a complete change in subject, how's getting up and to the bakery by 3:30 AM?"

"She makes amazing coffee."

"So, it is as horrible as it sounds. I had an idea about that, which would earn you both more sleep and not trample her morality."

He cocks his head, "Go on. I'm not a rooster, so I prefer to sleep a little later in the morning when possible."

"I was down in the kitchens the other day, and did you know there is a storage area for back up equipment? Most of this equipment is in good condition. There's a mixer there. Actually, there are two in reserve, in addition to the one in daily use. And Cook already said there is hardly ever a need for more than two mixers even with large Occasions of State."

Ethan works to make sure his face is composed, "And?"

"And we could draw up a contract if she won't accept the equipment as a gift from the palace. She's made it quite clear she doesn't like the idea of getting any favors from me."

He grins, "I almost feel guilty for letting Tyrmian carry your muffin in his pocket. I think I can convince her of that. Who do I work with?"

"I already talked to Aunt Marlee."

"I knew there was a reason that I work to keep you relatively safe."

I can't contain a guffaw, "You mean other than utter loyalty to the monarchy?"

His eye roll is pronounced, "That must be it, no familial connection at all."

"Whatever, don't go sentimental on me now. It would ruin a thirteen year tradition." I stand, pulling at the collar of my t-shirt. "I'll go and get ready for the day."

His grin widens as he waves a hand in front of his nose, "Good choice."

"Shut up," I yell, already out the door.

**…X.X.X.X…**

Fresh from the shower, I pace the corridors on the third floor, not quite ready to confront my father's writing or to meet his request for a one-one-one. My intense need to know has cooled since the early hours of the morning; and, I am resisting Auntie Nic's order. Even though I know I will eventually follow it. I really don't want to talk to anyone I'm related to, and before I am cognizant of what I am doing, I am opening the stairwell door on the second floor.

The girls should all be in class with Vara, and it seems as if I have found a place where I can be solitary, at least for the next hour or so. I shorten my stride, actually trying to look at the art on the walls, and nodding to the guards at their stations. When my mother first walked down this corridor, was she excited? Nervous? Intimidated? Did she feel caged? The longer she stayed could she feel Clarkson Schreave's hatred grow? An involuntary shiver accosts my spine.

I continue my slow circuit, until I hear, "She shoots! She scores! The crowd goes wild." I stop outside the door that seems to be containing the noise, and notice it is not completely shut. Through the crack I can see Charlie, wearing athletic shorts and a t-shirt, tossing balled up pieces of paper at a waste basket that had taken up residence on her desk. She is moving nimbly around the floor, taking shots from various points and making them all. I shake my head. Only Charlie.

Taking a liberty, I throw open the door, "Miss Charlotte Everly, I am surprised at you. Shouldn't you be in class with Miss Vara?"

She starts and spins to the door, realizing it is only me standing there, and launches her next paper basketball at my head. I fail to catch it, and she begins to laugh as it bounces off my forehead. All seriousness drops away, and I scoop up the errant scrap of paper and launch it into the basket. Then I close the door behind me, taking a few more steps into the room.

I clear my throat, pretending to be stern, "I asked you a question, young lady."

"I believe I'm feeling a little ill," Charlie grins and fakes a cough. "I would hate to get anyone else sick, you know."

Finally, I let the corners of my mouth turn up, "Of course. How thoughtful of you." I watch her square up to the basket and release another flawless shot. "Are the lessons really that bad?"

"Sometimes, yes. But Viviana and I have been taking turns playing hooky. So far, Vara hasn't caught on. We aren't trying to push our luck, but 'tiresome' doesn't quite describe it." She flops on the bed, and pats the spot next to her, inviting me to sit, too. I spread out at the foot, propping myself up on my elbow.

"Vara means well, and her job is important. But, I get it. The younger kids still have classes with her. Brie and I agree it's the best part of going away to school."

She arches an eyebrow, smirking a little. "So we know I should be somewhere else, shouldn't you be?"

"Probably," I shrug, "But that's one of the constants. I could always be doing something else, somewhere else." I gesture to the door, and wiggle my eyebrow back. "Should I leave? I mean, you probably need to recuperate from your illness."

Her smile is wider, "If you want to risk my germs, who am I to stop you, _Prince_ Calix?" The emphasis is on prince, and her attempt to elicit a laugh is successful. She hops back up and dumps the basket over. "Up for a game?"

We play for a while; her athleticism outpacing my own. Finally, I collapse back on the bed letting her collect our makeshift equipment and seat herself at the desk.

I fill the quiet that follows by blurting out, "My grandfather tried to have my parents killed."

"What?" Her face is frozen in a confused mask as she stares at me, eyes wide. "Say that again, please?"

I couldn't believe I said it the first time, but I repeat the phrase, "My grandfather tried to have my parents killed." Her palm covers her mouth and it would be comical if the subject matter wasn't Clarkson Schreave. I continue to explain, "Dad gave me King Clarkson's journal from right before the attack on the palace. And that was one of his intentions."

"Oh, Calix," she crosses to where I am laying and takes my hand. I let her take it, and make room for her to slide next to me. I watch as our fingers intertwine, she quietly calms me with her presence. She is the first to break the quiet. "Why are you talking to me about this?"

Squirming, I respond, "I'm not sure. I know you won't tell anyone?" It is a question, but I really didn't have to ask. I can trust Charlie like I can Ethan and Brie.

"Of course I won't. I just mean, maybe you should be talking to your dad and mom about this one?"

"I'm supposed to catch Dad before a meeting this afternoon."

An idea occurs to her, "Is that where you were this morning? Reading the journal?"

"I was sleeping off staying up until the wee hours reading and talking to Auntie Nic."

She tries to stifle a giggle, and I turn my head so I can see her face, "What's so funny? I just told you if my grandfather had his way, I wouldn't exist."

"I'm sorry, Calix. It always sounds facetious when you mention that the Princess Nicoletta of Italy is plain old 'Auntie Nic' to you. It sounds so common. And she's this important diplomat, ambassador…" She trails off. "I guess it's me that's odd?"

"Could be," I tease back. "Better you than me, at least." We're smiling into each other's face, and it occurs to me that I have never kissed Charlie. I move closer to her, and her relaxed posture stiffens.

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing you?"

She's quiet for moment, and then assents, "Okay. I guess we never have, have we?"

I simply shake my head a little in reply, and brush my lips across hers. I feel awkward trying to find the right angle, and my inelegance is matched in her response. It certainly wasn't like the connections I had with Claire and Viviana. And Fae, well, no one compares to my first kiss with Fae.

"That was-"

"Absolutely horrible?" I supply the words she might not be willing to say.

"I was going to say like kissing a dead fish. But horrible is a good way to describe it."

Soon, we're laughing so hard we're wheezing. "Should we try it again?" I suggest, secretly hoping she declines.

"Oh, gods, no!" she exclaims. "I imagine that would be what kissing your brother would feel like. We are strictly hugs and cheek kisses only from now on."

"Agreed."

"So," she begins, "Should I pack my things? I know you'll be narrowing down the field soon."

"News travels fast. If it's all the same to you, I'd like you to stay. It's nice to have a running buddy, and someone to talk to who isn't related—or doesn't _want_ to be related—to me. Plus, I think it would break Griffin's heart if you went home. You're his favorite." I elbow her in the side, and her response is to do the same.

"I guess I could do that. But, I have to go by the time competition starts. So wrap this up by January, eh?"

"Right, all for your convenience of course."

"If I can ask, who will make this round of cuts besides Claire and Viviana?" Her voice is still teasing, and underneath the lilt is true curiosity.

I'm not surprised that she knows my interest in those two is keenest, but the question still puts me off-kilter. "Well, I guess I should have more than three, right?"

"Unless you want a mutiny? And I'd probably actually make an effort to date a few of them before eliminating more. People will think this contest is rigged."

"I'm not as guarded as I think I am?"

"Let's just say, I'm not the traditional girl, and I knew that Claire and Viviana are favorites. It can get a little intense in the Women's Room."

"What do you mean? What do they say?"

An exaggerated eye roll accompanies her answer, "Oh, come on, Calix, you have twelve women vying for your attention and trying to pretend like they are gracious and happy about it when you look at someone else. Claire and Viviana and I are actually friends, and it can get frosty after one of them spends time with you. We've just agreed not to ask each other questions. And as to the gossip in the Women's Room, you know I keep my confidences."

"I guess I didn't realize," I feel apologetic, and hope my tone reflects the emotion. "So, you think it is too soon to eliminate everyone but Viviana and Claire?"

She tries to hold in a sigh and is largely unsuccessful. "You know what an elimination like that would mean," she looks at me and exhales another breath, shaking her head when I show my confusion. "It would suggest that you are close to making a choice. So, are you close to making a decision? Do you love Viviana or Claire?"

"Oh," I reply, feeling a little ridiculous and a lot lost. "Oh, I don't know. What do you think?"

"Calix, I think you are infatuated with both of them. I think you care for _both_ of them. But, love? I think you think you should be in love. I even think you _want_ to be in love. And, `you will be. Hopefully, by January." She pats my hand and snorts a little at her own joke. "Personally, I think you've been in love _before_ and are just getting over her, and that's probably why we are having this bizarre conversation."

My response of "Oh" this time is met with a hug and a peck on the cheek. "How'd you get to be so smart, Charlie?"

"I've always been smart, Calix. My ability to ski doesn't disable my brain."

"I'm glad you're staying."

Her voice is bright without any trace of sarcasm as she returns, "Me, too. Your training equipment is better than mine."

**….X.X.X.X….**

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. I love "hearing" your thoughts about the story. And I so appreciate you sticking with me. Responses to your comments are below! XOXO SJ**

**Prnamber3909: DAY is from the LEGEND series. I appreciate the puppy dog face. Don't you think Calix is confused enough without Fae back in the mix? I mean he's reading the diaries, he's supposed to choose between two completely different women, and his dad's advisors think he's not quite ready to rule yet… But it is good to know that you would ship them. Thanks for reading! :)**

**AcademicGirl: Aww, thanks. It's nice to be missed. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. I hope this lead up chapter is okay, too. And, I like the simile—what a great image—a music sheet riddled with staccato eighth notes. Totally knows what that feels like. :)**

**Selection Fan: Thanks so much. I'm glad you enjoyed it! :)**

**NotHisDear: You get a little bit of an answer to your question, but I promise there is more to come from Italy. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)**

**dolly123: Cal does in fact think he is a ninja. He's keeping it from his family, though. I am impressed that you figured out the surprise twist so early! Just keep it a secret and don't ruin it for anyone else, okay? ;) Thank you for your sweet review, it helps keep me writing! What do you think of this chapter? :)**

**The Devil Wears Westwood: Cal and Claire are cute. So are Cal and Viviana. I can tell you, these last few chapters are the calm before the chaos. So much is coming… I'm glad you're enjoying the story and hope you like this update, too. Plus, I really hope that you find time soon to write. Maybe after your crazy week?! :)**

**Username1096: Thank you so much for your review. And I'm glad you like the story enough to miss it during the unplanned hiatus. I missed the story, too! Always like to see what you think about it. Let me know what worked best in this chapter, too, if you have a chance! :) **

**izzielau: I know—this bracket was a tough one. It seems unfair that the random bracket generator created this possible scenario, doesn't it…Thank you for reading! :)**

**ShippingSoHard: Got it! Thanks for reading! **

**happyfacess501kim: Those journals…quite a bit to dump on someone all at once, though? This family definitely has some skeletons! Good choice for the bracket. That's what I get to do, because I don't vote on any of it. Thanks for reading! :)**

**….X.X.X.X….**

**Bracket: MAXON **_Not that we all don't appreciate DAY, right? Just we are on The Selection Trilogy section of this site… :)_


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